


Chasing Sparks

by debatableimp



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Memory Charms, Memory Loss, Post-Hogwarts, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2018-12-22 00:00:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/debatableimp/pseuds/debatableimp
Summary: Dragged by the hand of a young girl, Jean Wilkinson is introduced to a world she could have never imagined, or maybe just a world she doesn't remember... But why does everyone keep thinking she is Hermione Granger? What does all of this mean for her past? Where will her future take her? Who should she trust when she even doubts herself? Things are not always what they seem.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: Hi! So, this story basically just wrote itself and refused to be ignored. I can't quite promise even where it will go because it ran away with itself. I have a good bit written already. Some of the chapters will be quite short because of the natural break in the story, but I will update relatively frequently.
> 
> Just as a note, the story will be limited to the main character's view point so many things won't be as they first appear.
> 
> Also, the romance aspects will be slow burn so, please forgive it. This is a story driven by plot first and foremost.
> 
> I hope you like it.
> 
> Oh, and the Harry Potter universe belongs to JKR. Obviously.

She could never explain it, but there was always something comforting about King's Cross station. Maybe it was the hustle and bustle of people going by on their way to new places. Maybe it was some old-world notion about the romance of train travel. Maybe it was the way there seemed to be a buzz in the air that sent a wave of warmth through her system. Maybe it wasn't any particular reason at all. In many ways, it was just like any other train station, but time and time again she found herself lingering there for a cup of tea on her way in and out of London.

On that fall day, she sat at her usual table. She was so immersed in her reading that she didn't even notice the little girl until she felt the tug on her outer coat. Startled, she popped up in her seat before easing into a smile. "Hello," She paused looking around for any related adult nearby. "Where are your parents?"

The young girl looked to be about 6 or 7 years old with shoulder length red hair and mischievous brown eyes. "Are you Hermione Granger?" The girls said ignoring the previously posed question.

"Oh, um, well no. I'm sorry. I'm Jean Wilkinson." She paused, "Are you here alone?"

The young girl scrutinized her with an expression that accentuated the dusting of freckles that fanned across the bridge of her nose and her cheeks. "No." She said as though the answer didn't matter before continuing on. "You look like Hermione Granger."

Jean gave her a nervous smile. "Yes, well I supposed that happens sometimes… What is your name?"

"Lily." The girl said but didn't seem to be interested. She was studying Jean's hair with the light of intrigue in her eyes.

Jean patted the twist of hair and tucked the short curl that framed her face behind her ear. "Well, Lily, how about I help you find your parents?"

Lily opened her mouth to say more, but a boy stomped over and grabbed her by the elbow. "Liiilllly, come on. Mum has been looking for you." He was just a bit older than her with the same dusting of freckles but had brilliant green eyes that never even glanced towards Jean and black hair that appeared both too long and too short all at once.

Jean followed them with her eyes as they walked away. She could hear Lily say, "It's her! It's her! Let me go, Albus. We have to go back-" But then they disappeared into the crowd. She tried to find them again to no avail. After a few moments, she gave up and picked up her book again.

As some time passed, Jean continued to sit there sipping her second cuppa until she felt the pressure of eyes watching her. With a quick glance around, she couldn't place the source. In the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw something shimmer. But upon a second look, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Unable to relax again, she gathered her things and headed towards her platform.

It was nearly time for the 11:05 train. But as she neared the platform, suddenly a woman with a flash of red hair pushed past her with such a strong effort that Jean lost her balance. As she quickly stumbled backward, she reached out towards the wall to her right, expecting support to catch herself, but was shocked as the wall seemed to give way. She closed her eyes in preparation for the impact. Instead of the impending crash to the ground, she was hoisted up into the strong embrace of a stranger.

Jean opened her eyes. "Thank you," she said as she attempted to leave his embrace and straighten her skirt. But she realized he had yet to relinquish his hold on her. Confused, she looked up into his brilliant green eyes. His face had a stunned expression that appeared to be frozen in place. There was a noise just behind Jean, and she turned just in time to see the red headed woman appear to come  _through_  the wall.

It was then that Jean realized that must have been the wall she expected to catch her. She looked around and noticed that around her was no longer the multitude of people running about looking for the proper platform. There remained only the platform in front of her with an old-fashioned steam engine train surrounded by families pushing trunks, dressed in a mixture of odd clothing. Where was she? What happened?

Suddenly, the man spoke to the woman directly behind her. "Ginny, what have you done?"

The red-haired woman stood up defiantly against the vague accusation. "Something I should have done a long time ago."

The man took the red-haired woman's hand and led them all away down towards the platform away from the wall that was not a wall. Jean began to struggle against the arm he still had wrapped around her waist.

"Sir, I don't know who you think you are, but I don't appreciate being man handled! If you would please let go of me, I have a train to catch." He looked down at her again considering her face before loosening his grip enough for her to spin out of his hold.

Jean straightened herself out with an increased amount of apprehension. Oddly, it was not the man's actions that alarmed her as much as it was her own  _lack_  of fear.

"Sorry," he mumbled. He turned his attention to the red head and began speaking in harsh whispers. Jean was unable to make out what they were saying, but as she looked around she noticed that many of the parents left on the platform was staring at the three of them.

"-but you didn't see the teacup!" were the peculiar words that drew Jean's attention back to the couple next her. In response to whatever the woman had said the man huffed and scrubbed his face with his hands. Jean continued to peruse the area around her for a way out. She took a step back towards the wall that had seemed to be the "entrance." It could have been a curtain of some kind that only looked like a wall. An optical illusion? Some kind of technological projection? Must be. All she had to do was go back through it and she would be on her way. She took another step towards it before she felt another tug on her coat. Looking down just behind her. She found the same little girl from before.

"Hello," Lily said. "Where are you going?"

Jean looked around tensely. "I am trying to get back to the other train platforms. But," Jean looked around once more before crouching down to the little girl's height. "Are your parents here?" The little girl pointed to the odd couple that Jean had just walked away from. "Oh," Jean said relieved that this time the girl was not alone, but also somewhat concerned as the parents seemed rather entangled in their discussion. She also spotted the boy that had collected Lily earlier eyeing them from a couple meters away.

Jean had opened her mouth again to say goodbye when something behind Jean caught the attention of the girl. Jean spun around to see a man standing by the wall, scanning the platform before his eyes settled on her. As he began to walk towards her, he withdrew a stick from somewhere in his sleeve. While his body language was intimidating, this addition only puzzled Jean, but the girl moved closer to her. As he began to lift his hand with the stick, suddenly the girl cried out. "STOP!"

And he did.

It took Jean a moment to realize that it was not of his own volition. She looked back to Lily's face which filled with fear, resilience, and pride. Everything around them stopped: the movement of the other bystanders, the couple deep in discussion, the hum of whispers throughout the platform. The man's face began to become enraged at his predicament but was yet unable to retaliate. Until there was the roar of the train that signaled its departure.

That seemed to break the spell that had been cast around them. The man was able to move, the people began to talk and Ginny rushed forward in fear. But she was too far away. The man lifted the stick and a beam of light flickered through the air just above Jean and Lily's head. Jean instinctively ducked and pulled the small girl into her arms to shield her. Jean was unsure as to what was happening but enough to know that it was not good. The man with the green eyes also withdrew a stick and began to fire at the new stranger.

The train's horn blew again as the commotion escalated, Jean attempted to continue to shield the little girl from the chaos around them. But it would seem that Lily had a different plan. She grabbed Jean's hand and dragged her up and on to the train just as it began to pull away from the platform. Afraid to let the girl go on unattended, Jean reluctantly followed.

It was not until she was on the train and looked out the window of the doorway as the platform faded away that she began to wonder, "What just happened?" Jean glanced down to the hand held by the smiling little girl.

"Magic," was all Lily said as the smile spread across her face into a mischievous grin.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey continues aboard the Hogwarts Express.

Jean reluctantly settled with the idea that they were now committed to where ever this train was headed. She once again leaned down. "Lily." She paused. "What exactly just happened?"

Lily shrugged her shoulders. "Loads of stuff."

Jean knew it was likely not going to understand much more, but at this moment her only option for understanding the situation was through the little girl who seemed relatively unfazed. "Have you ever seen anything like that before?"

"Of course, silly. It's just magic."

It was an answer that would provide little help. Jean tried to remain patient and calm as to not upset the little girl. "Ok, well do you know what that man wanted? The man with the stick?"

Lily scrunched up her nose considering the question, "You mean his wand?"

Jean stumbled back for a moment with the motion of the train but pressed on. "Yes, the man with the…wand. Why was he coming after us?"

"He wanted to take you away."

Jean was confused even more by this statement. "Why did he want to take me away? How do you know that?"

Lily shrugged her shoulders again. "Because it's what they always do."

Trying not to sound alarmed, Jean continued. "Who are 'they'?"

Lily looked up the ceiling considering her unsure answer, "The angry men."

Well that was a dead-end response. "Why?"

Lily began to pout. "I don't know."

Realizing that this would probably be the most she would be able to find out from the child, Jean sighed and ushered Lily towards the compartments. Once again though Lily took control. Dragging her down the aisle, looking in each compartment quickly before moving on to the next until she found the one she was looking for and threw open the doors. Inside were three boys, who all looked startled at first until the raven-haired boy spoke. "What are you doing here, Lily? You aren't old enough to go to Hogwarts yet. Mum told you that on the way over."

Lily was not put off by this at all. Instead she tugged Jean into the compartment with their clasped hands to take a seat.

"She is." Lily said for the first time drawing the attention of the boys to Jean.

All three boys looked confused until one dropped his jaw. "Bloody hell, are you Hermione Granger?" The other two boys suddenly leapt forward to get a better look at her while Lily nodded. Jean's cheeks burned a little.

"Watch your language." She gently prodded them to return to their seats. "Now I am sorry to disappoint you all, but I am not Hermione Granger. My name is Jean. You mentioned Hogwarts. Is that where this train is headed? How far outside of London is that?"

The boy with shaggy red hair spoke, "Don't you know? I mean we have never been there before but you have…"

"I can assure you I have not. Now-"

"No, but you have. You're Hermione Granger! Hang on," the raven-haired boy reached for his trunk and began to rummage through it.

It was beginning to make Jean very uncomfortable to be questioned by children over her identity. "Alright well where are the adults? Are any of your parents nearby?" They all shook their heads. "Well who is in charge of this train?"

The children looked around at each other, the boy who "recognized" her shrugged his shoulders. He had short curly frizzy dark hair with a reddish tinge in the light that stood out against his mocha complexion. The boy with shaggy red hair spoke again. "Well I mean there is the trolley lady. And then the prefects. But no adults really."

"Do you mean to tell me this is a train full of just children and a trolley lady?"

The children nodded. Suddenly, the raven-haired boy jumped up pulling a small card out from his trunk. Triumphantly he handed it over to Jean.

She read the card, "Hermione Jean Granger: Hermione Granger was notable for her role alongside Harry Potter in the downfall of Lord Voldemort. Also, for eradicating pro-pureblood laws at the Ministry of Magic and campaigning for the rights of non-human beings such as house-elves. She was widely considered to be the 'brightest witch of her age'. She has not been seen publicly since the Wizarding Ball of 2005, which commemorated the seven years since the end of the war."

She flipped the card over and was surprised to see a likeness to herself. It was even coincidental that the middle name matched her own given name. She could understand the confusion her presence may have caused the children.

"While I will admit to some similarities, I can promise you I am not this woman. My name is Jean Wilkinson. Besides, this card appears to be about some character from some imaginary circumstance. I have seen trading cards like this. They are not about real people or animals." She looked it over again before grumbling under her breath, "Although I can't say I have seen one like this before." She considered its odd shape and quality of the image that seemed to move before handing it back to the boy. "Now, what are your names?"

One boy stuck his hand out, "Fred Weasley, the second, ma'am." She shook his hand and then the shaggy red-haired boy informed her that he was Louis Weasley.

"So, are you brothers?"

Fred pulled an arm around Louis, "No, but he wishes, wouldn't have to be stuck with the girls all time then right?"

Louis shoved him back. "You have a sister too."

Fred scoffed, "Yeah, but Roxanne doesn't count. She could beat your arse in Quidditch any day."

"You aren't even old enough to play!"

"Doesn't matter, it's in the blood." Fred puffed out his chest a bit with emphasis.

While they shoved each other back and forth, the third boy stepped forward. Still watching with suspicion as well as intrigue. "James, I'm Lily's brother. But we are all cousins."

Looking at his face, Jean could see the resemblance. He bore more familiarity to his sister than the other black-haired boy she had seen earlier at the platform, even though the boys shared the same messy dark hair. She nodded towards him and looked back at Lily, who was positively beaming.

"Right…well… I think I will go find this trolley lady." Jean stepped out of the compartment and into the aisle. After a moment of recollecting herself, she dug through her purse and pulled out her cell phone, only to find that it had no service and the battery was quickly draining. How odd, she thought to herself before stuffing it back into her bag. Heading towards the front of the train, it did not take her long to find the trolley lady.

"Um…madam?"

The woman turned towards with a gentle expression. "Yes, dear? Would you like something from the trolley?"

Jean managed a smile, "No, I was wondering if there was any way to get off the train?"

The woman looked confused by the request. "Off the train?"

"Yes, well you see I am not supposed to be on this train. I need to get back to London or find a transfer that can take me to Oxford another way."

"No. No one gets off the train until we arrive at Hogwarts."

Jean sighed, "Alright, and when do you expect that to be?"

"Not for another few hours. Don't worry we will be there in plenty of time for the feast." The trolley lady appeared to believe that answer would settle it as she continued to push the trolley to the next compartment and began serving the children inside. "Hello dears! Would you like anything from the trolley?" A couple of the children gave her some odd bronze and silver coins in exchange for pastries and chocolates.

Jean twisted her hands, "Um…madam?"

The trolley lady turned back to her, "Yes dear, would you like anything from the trolley?"

Jean was perplexed by this woman's behavior. "No. I'm sorry, but what feast? How far away is Hogwarts? Also, are there any other adults on the train?"

"The Start of Term feast." She paused for a moment. "I am not sure of the exact distance." As she pushed the trolley to the next compartment. "Hello dears! Would you like anything from the trolley?"

Jean began to feel a bit like she was going mad. "Start of term? Wait is that why there only children on this train? Are they all going to school?"

"Why yes, of course, it is a school."

"Ok, and what time do you expect this train to arrive at the school?"

"The same time it always does," the woman said as she handed out treats to the students inside.

Jean huffed and whirled around to head back to compartment. But when she found the compartment that she believed she left them in, no one was around. A small part of her began to panic. Lily should be with her brother, but Jean felt as though she was responsible for the child now.

A voice behind her startled her briefly. As she turned she saw a boy with shockingly pale blue hair. He gave her small smile. "Hello. Can I help you?"

"Yes." She paused, what was her most pressing need? To get off the train? To find out the destination? To find her way home? To find out what in the world was going on? In the end, she settled on a different question. "I need to find a little girl. Lily is her name. I was with her a moment ago. But I had to go find the trolley lady to find out a way home, and in the mean time I appear to have lost her. She is, she is this tall," she gestured quickly with her hands, "with red hair. She's young…" She trailed off because while she had been rambling she also realized she knew very little else about the girl. "She has a brother! James. He is here too."

The boy laughed. "I know exactly who you are talking about. They should be back in a minute. I believe she went to visit with her cousin while her brother and the others changed into their school robes. You must be… Jean?" He said gauging her reaction with a sad sort of smile.

She nodded. "Yes." One problem solved. "Do you know how quickly I would be able to return to London?"

He looked at her for a moment before responding. "I'm not sure honestly. We should arrive around 4, but I don't know that the train leaves again for some time."

"Well perhaps I could take a taxi somewhere else?"

The boy shyly smiled about a secret he kept to himself. "There aren't many taxis around there."

It must really be in the country, she thought to herself. "So where exactly is Hogwarts?"

"Scotland."

"Scotland?! That is much farther than I had hoped to go. Is it closer to Edinburgh or Glasgow?"

"I'm going to guess neither. There isn't much else around where we are going. And it's north of those cities. If you want to wait here, I'll let Lily know you are looking for her."

Jean went inside and sat in the compartment. Further north? It was a 5-hour train ride. That should take her just about the Scotland border. It didn't make any sense. But then again, this could all be ruse to some degree. She had no idea where it was going and it could be very well that the boy had lied to her or been mistaken. She paused. He did not seem to be the type. And something about him made her trust him. After anxiously fidgeting for a moment, she pulled out her book from earlier and began to read.

Not long after, the small red-haired girl burst back into the compartment dragging another student with her clasped hand. Jean smiled at them both as she looked up from her book. "I see you tend to drag many people around this way."

Lily smiled. "This is my cousin. Molly."

Molly's wavy ginger hair was cut into a bob that framed her face. She reached up and adjusted her glasses before extending her hand towards Jean. But before she had the chance to speak, another girl popped her head into the compartment.

She was a thin girl with shining smile. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back into a messy braid. "Is this her?" her eyes sparkled.

Molly narrowed her eyes towards the new arriver. "Yes, it would seem so. Calm down, will you?"

The new girl paused and watched Molly's face. "You look like your father when you say things like that, you know that?" Molly rolled eyes at her. "I'm Dominique. And it is an honor to meet you." Jean blushed. It was still strange the way these children were treating her. She shook the hands of both girls.

"Honestly, I'm really just Jean. There is no reason to meet me. You are too kind." She did not miss the look exchanged between the two older girls after she spoke.

A moment of awkward silence hung in the air that was apparent to all except Lily who kept fliting her eyes excitedly around the compartment.

"Would you girls like to sit down?" Jean asked. They both nodded enthusiastically before joining her in the compartment. As they did, Jean turned towards Lily, "So how many more cousins do you have exactly? Because this compartment may be filled up rather quickly."

Lily smiled bashfully.

Dominique was the one to speak up though. "We only have one other family member on this train you haven't met. My sister, Victoire. She is somewhere around here. Teddy said he would send her this way when he got the chance. After the prefects' meeting."

After a few more awkward pauses, the conversation picked up and the girls told her about their houses and the years they were entering in school. It was not like any school that Jean had ever heard of, but she listened with rapt attention as they all animatedly described it to her. As the boys returned, they joined into too.

"Well it all sounds rather magical," Jean said with a short laugh.

"Well it is." Molly said sweetly.

"Yes, I'm sure it's very lovely."

The children around her exchanged looks. "It's the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," said James proudly.

Becoming somewhat uncomfortable with their seriousness about magic and the like, Jean shifted in her seat. Her anxiety must have built up inside her as she felt and uncomfortable squeezing sensation in her chest. "Yes well, that sounds… great." They continued to stare at her.

Suddenly, Dominique pulled out a stick and looked expectantly at Jean. Correction, wand. After a moment, she looked around at the others before moving her wand in a flourish. "Wingardium leviosa!" Jean watched as the trunk above her on the ranks wiggled slightly before lifting into the air for a float.

Her eyes widened. "Well, um, yes that is quite a magical trick, but I'm sure that-"

But before she could supply an alternative explanation, Dominique pulled out a match, flicked her wand again and quickly mumbled something under her breath. Jean watched as it transformed into a needle.

She ran through her mind the likelihood of it being a trick. It could have been rigged beforehand. But she thought back to what happened at the train platform and the way they described their school. What if it wasn't myths and legends they were telling her, but the truth?

Molly leaned over and whispered to Dominique, "I don't think you should have done that." But Dominique just waved her off. The boys watched in wonder as well.

The compartment door suddenly opened to a tall blonde girl that moved with grace not usually seen in a teenager. "Hi, sorry it took a while to get out of that meeting. It is so nice to meet you. I'm Victoire." She smiled at Jean, before she realized there was something off. "I'm sorry, but what did I miss?" She ventured a glance at the others in the compartment for some sort of clue.

Behind her the boy with blue hair from earlier appeared, it was a moment before his hair flashed from blue to yellow to pink and back to blue. It may have been just enough to startle Jean, she stood up. "I think I need some air." She said as she left the compartment. Her heart pounded in her chest, her mind reeled, and her vision blurred.

"That could have gone better." James said before Louis and Dominique smacked him on the back of the head.


	3. Chapter 3

Jean stood at the back of the train on looking out at the passing landscape. The wind whipped the loose pieces of hair around her face. 

Breathe. Just breathe.

She began to regain control over her responses. Slowly. The pounding her head receded to a dull throb. Her heart still raced but was quieted by the repetitive sounds of the train running over the tracks. 

She was unsure how to feel at that moment, or even why she had suddenly felt like her world was collapsing just moments before. She was either on a train full of children who were either a) crazy, b) illusionists, or c) she was surrounded by people who could do magic. None of the options were particularly comforting at the moment. Well, perhaps the illusionists option was not too bad. Personally, though, she didn't prefer a profession that rested on deceiving people for entertainment.

After some time, she headed back to the compartment. As the conversation between the children resumed, she slowly drifted off to sleep lulled by the motion of the train. When Jean began to stir, she was aware of two small hands playing with her hair, which appeared to have fallen out of its elegant twist and resumed its wild tendencies. She sat up and considered her surroundings. It was just the three boys and Lily, as it had been when they first entered the train. As she looked out the window she leaned against, she noticed they were still moving.

"I like your hair," Lily said. 

Jean looked at her for signs of mocking that appeared absent before patting down her hair self-consciously. "Thank you."

"We're close," Louis said. 

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye before nodding. Lily poked her arm. Jean couldn't help but smile at the child. "Yes, Lily?"

"What will you do when we get there?"

Jean paused unsure of the question. "Go home."

Lily looked as though she was about to ask another question when they all realized the train was slowing down. They all looked out the window in wonder. Through the trees and across a large lake rose a magnificent castle. The grounds were breathtaking and yet there was something haunting about the view. 

There was a jolt when the train arrived at its destination. Excitedly all of the children quickly gathered their things and fled the train. Lily did so dragging Jean with her, who only just managed to gather her belongings shortly before tripping over the eager girl's footsteps down from the train. Almost immediately after exiting, the red-haired woman from the platform enveloped Lily in a hug. Ginny, Jean recalled. Jean stood there awkwardly looking around before she settled on the man with green eyes who had caught her at the train station. He looked as awkward as she felt. 

Many of the other students were heading down the platform towards the farthest of the quaint buildings that lined the station and following the bellowing voice of a large man. There wasn't much else around. Jean looked back down at the girl who had led her on this unusual day. 

"Yes, well. It was lovely to meet you, Lily. But I must get going." Jean said, and she attempted to leave in search of a ticket booth. But Lily clung to her side. Jean was unsure of what to do and looked to the girl's parents for help.

She was surprised to find that Ginny had tears in her eyes watching the interaction. She turned and buried her face in her husband's shoulder. He patted his wife on the back, "Why don't you and Lily go meet Albus inside?" Ginny nodded and bent down to gently pry Lily from her hold on Jean. The girl protested some but gave in after a stern look from her father. 

After they were both gone, Jean stood there awkwardly. She felt that there was something unsaid in the air that prevented her from leaving right away. "She is a lovely girl. Your whole family really. Although, I supposed I can only speak of the children. There seems to be quite a lot of them actually…"

He smiled. "Yes, there are." 

"She seems very…independent. You know, I don't mean to overstep, but it may not be best that she wanders off quite so often. I mean, she may be a little too friendly to strangers for her own good. And they all seem rather intent on believing magic is real."

There was something heavy in his voice. "Yes, well she's not normally like this…"

She smiled, "I don't know that I believe that. She seems awful sure of herself. And a little too comfortable talking to me." There was a long pause. "Right. Well, I'll be off." She quickly realized she did not know where to go. "Actually, could you help me find a way back to London?" She paused again suddenly it clicked in her mind. "How did you get here before us?" 

He paused and shifted nervously, "Flew."

"Oh…right that makes sense. Are you flying back soon? I would love to catch a flight, save some time."

"No, I don't think there will be any flights back for a while."

"Oh, ok." 

"Thank you," he said. "For watching over Lily…"

"Of course. But it was just a train ride to her brother's school."

He seemed to share a secret smile with himself.

She moved to walk away but turned back. "I'm sorry. I don't believe I ever introduced myself. I'm Jean Wilkinson."

"Oh yes, um…I’m Harry, Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter?" She watched him as something seemed to constrict within his eyes when she said his name. "As in 'Hermione Granger was notable for her role alongside Harry Potter in the downfall of Lord Voldemort'?"

He took a step forward. "Yes." He said in a breathless tone. There was something pleading within his eyes, for what she did not know.

"Why would you give your children cards with such ridiculous stories about yourself on the back? Lord Voldemort? What kind of name is that? And all about Ministries of Magic, Wizarding Balls, and elves? I mean is it not enough that they are going to a school to become magicians? And that display on the platform?" 

She watched as something visibly deflated within him. She realized how rude that must have been. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have said anything." She paused again before leaving. "Who was the girl on the card?"

He began to look as though he was in true physical pain. "She's…someone I used to know. A friend."

She suddenly felt very guilty. Her resemblance wasn't just to some character, but someone this man had truly known. Absurd backstory aside. "Well, I'm sorry for the confusion. I, myself, have to admit I can see the resemblance. So, I can understand the confusion it has caused for the children. And perhaps even for yourself. But I'm not--"

"Potter!" It was a voice behind her that sent chills down her spine. Before she even had the chance to turn around, a man with billowing black robes and pale blonde hair walked past her. He marched directly towards Harry with a furious expression. "What is she still doing here?"

"Draco, I was---"

"Save it. Get it over with." For the first time, he looked at Jean for just a moment before stomping off again. She couldn't help but think he could have been carved out of marble. Even more than his pale skin and his sharp features, something about him seemed hardened. 

Jean pursed her lips, "Well he is just a ray of sunshine, isn't he?"

Harry smirked. "He has his moments. But he is right, we should all probably be on the way home." Something in his expression faltered. His eyes seemed to shine for just a moment. "The ticket booth is over there." He pointed to one of the smaller buildings down the way. 

Jean nodded, "Thanks." 

She began to walk away as she got a few paces forward, she looked up and in the distance, she could see bright blonde hair standing in the distance watching her. She stopped. She remembered seeing that before. How many adults had hair that shade? 

She turned back to Harry to ask about the man. But she was surprised to see Harry standing behind with a "wand" raised level with her eyes. 

A single tear was streaming down his face. "Obliviate," he said, and as the word escaped him, Jean braced herself just before it all fell into darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't kill me. Just keep reading. Please.


	4. Chapter 4

As Jean awoke, she could feel her head pounding. She sat up to realize she was at home in her own bed. Any other morning that would not have seemed out of the ordinary. But she could not recall the night before. She didn't remember getting ready for bed or even coming home. What happened last night? What was the last thing she remembered?

Then like a spark in the back of her mind, suddenly came to her.

The day on the train. The little girl with red hair and brown eyes that led her around. All of the cousins. The man with bright blonde hair. And Harry Potter.

Obliviate.

What did that mean? Oblivion? Or the Latin oblivio or oblivisci, she mused. Unaware? Banished?

_To forget_?

Was that right? What did he want her to forget? Had she forgotten?

She jumped out of bed only to lose her balance. She brought a hand up to her head. Did she get a concussion? It didn't matter, she needed to find out what else happened. She paused. Wait. Was she going on the assumption that magic was real?

No. Maybe. It was too much to just let it all go, she needed to find out what that man had intended.

But what if this man was violent? Crazy? They were all a little crazy…

She shook her head and pushed away all the doubt. She had to find out more. How did she get home? She was dressed in her pajamas and almost everything appeared to be just as it should, only she knew that it wasn't. She examined herself in the mirror looking for a bump on the head or any other bruises. There was nothing. She shook herself again. She had to go find out what she could. She got herself ready for the morning and pondered all of this more over her breakfast. She needed to go now. It was as though every cell in her body was on edge impatient waiting for the day to begin. As she grabbed her coat and stepped out the door, she realized she didn’t know where she was going to go. The train station? It was not likely they would be there again.

But where else could she go?

A little more than an hour later, she walked over to the wall that she had fallen through the day before. She ran her hands across it. Nothing happened. It appeared to be just another wall. But she hadn't touched it the day before, she had just fallen through it and other people walked through it. She looked around nervously. "Here goes nothing." And she walked directly into. Her head pounded harder than it did before. Definite just a wall. "Well so much for that."

As she massaged her head she looked down to the ground and saw something shining. She bent down to pick it up. It was a bronze colored coin. She turned it over in her hand. It looked like it could have been one of the same coins the students had paid the trolley lady with.

"Miss, are you alright?"

She closed her hand around the coin. "Yes, sorry. I just--" She looked up. It was the second man from the platform yesterday. The one that had frozen in place. The one that went after her and Lily with his wand. "I wasn’t looking where I was going. You know they say that walking and texting is dangerous, but it's just so hard to stop." She gave a weak smile as she slipped her hand with the coin into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.

The man watched her face carefully for a moment. "Alright then, do you need help finding your way to your train?"

"No, don't worry. I think I will be able to find it on my own. Thank you for the offer though."

She quickly walked away. She wasn't quite sure why she had lied. She had been looking for answers and found someone who could have probably provided some help but felt compelled to lie.

When she had walked far enough away, she looked behind her as she rounded a corner towards the tube trains. The man was discreetly following her. She looked around and saw the Piccadilly line would be leaving any minute. She looked behind her again and saw the man advancing quickly, giving up the guise of casually following her. She just made it through the doors and saw him fighting his way through the crowd, but realized he was too far away and would not make the train.

She gave a sigh of relief and sat down in a seat nearby. Now what?

She looked up at the destinations. Russell Square. No. Holborn. No. Covent Garden. Maybe. Leicester Square. Yes. She had a friend that worked not too far away from that. It would also put some distance between the man from King's Cross.

She felt around in her pocket until she pulled out the small coin. She studied it closer. The one side had what looked like an elk and read "unum knut". On other side was the imprint of an old man with a long beard and the words "Gringotts Bank." She had never heard of such a bank. She pulled out her phone and found that a quick Google resulted with nothing helpful. She tucked the coin back in her pocket and dialed. She heard the familiar male voice pick up on the other end of the call.

"Ludicrous Patent Office."

Jean smiled to herself and rolled her eyes. He always answered with his ridiculous nickname for the law firm. "Hi. I was wondering if you had any lunch plans?"

She heard a chuckling on the other end of the phone. "I have not heard from you in who knows how long yet I get no, 'how are you?' No concern for my well-being?"

She smiled, "All you have to do is agree to lunch and I am sure we will spend more than enough time discussing all the intricacies of your life."

"Alright, alright. Do you have a place in mind?"

"Well I will be getting off at Leicester Square station, but I can change there and meet you closer--"

"No, how about I meet you around there so you don't have to change trains." He gave her the name of a local pub and promised to head over shortly. When she arrived, she got a table near the window that looked out on to the street while she waited for him. She read over the menu for a bit and put in an order for a drink. After a few moments, she found herself watching the passersby. She began to notice the voluminous cloaks people were wearing that all seemed to come in and out of the rundown establishment across the street. How odd. But certainly not the most unusual thing she had seen in the last 24 hours.

She felt the hand on her shoulder and stood up to embrace her friend in a hug, "Blaise." He smiled as his tall frame towered over her. Everything about him was impeccably styled from the perfect Windsor knot to the shine of his Italian loafers.

He took the seat across from her. "Hello," he said with a smug smile in place on his face.

"I didn't see you come in."

"Oh, I came from the other direction. Besides you are usually so engrossed in your own thoughts, I'm not surprised you didn't notice." He teased.

"I suppose that is true some of the time." She paused as he raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Most of the time."

"Yes, well as glad as I am that you arranged this lunch, do you want to tell me why you decided to call me out of the blue?"

She bit her lip. "I just wanted to see you while I was in town."

His dark eyes scrutinized her. "Jean, I know for a fact you come into the city once a week to go to that bloody British Library. Try again."

"I missed you?"

He laughed. "I'm sure." He said as a waitress came to take their orders.

For a while, they shared small talk about their lives and ate their meals until there was a lull in the conversation. Jean stared out the window as the rain began to fall.

"Ah, so we have finally reached the point where you tell me what is really going on with you," Blaise said.

"Yes, well. I don't know what to say without sounding crazy." She said still staring out into the rain.

"You, my darling, could never be crazy. A bit eccentric. Never crazy."

She picked up her glass and narrowed her eyes at him as she took a sip. "I had a …a strange day yesterday." He watched her carefully, waiting for her to continue. "Well, I don't remember coming home for one. Or going to sleep."

He studied her for a moment before a smirk slipped on to his face. "My, my. Getting sloshed on a Tuesday? I didn't know you had it in you."

Jean scowled at him. "No. Nothing like that. But what I do remember does not make much sense…but then a man followed me through the train station on my way here. I don't know… I just felt a little off…"

"Well, why don't you tell me more and we'll see if we can make sense of this."

She sighed and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. She began speaking softly, but as her story went on the strength in her voice grew. "Yesterday morning, I met a little girl who asked me if I was someone else. But then she left. While I was walking to my platform, some woman knocked into me and I went through a wall. _Through_ a wall. As though it wasn't even there. On to a completely different platform. Then there were the parents of the same little girl. But then another man--the man from today--appeared through the wall. Only he came towards me and the little girl with a stick. Or wand. I don't know. That was what the little girl called it. Then she stopped him. I think. Froze him in place." She tucked a curl behind her ear before continuing.

"So, we jumped on to this old-fashioned steam engine. The little girl introduced me to all her cousins. They showed me this card with a picture of a girl that looked like me--bit too much like me really. And there was this incredibly unhelpful trolley lady. Then the children did some magic tricks. And I don't know it all seemed like magic tricks, I think. But then we got off the train at this station in the middle of nowhere. And the girl's parents were there to collect her. Honestly, they acted a bit odd in general. And then this man with the palest blonde hair I have ever seen, well he was just… Well, I don't know but then the girl's father raised his wand at me. The last thing I remember is when he said obliviate. Then just darkness. "

She paused for a moment. "I woke up in my apartment with the most intense headache. And I don't know, it's just not…something is not right. So, I went back to the train station for a clue or to prove myself wrong. But I found this." She pulled the coin out of her pocket and handed it to Blaise quickly while she continued on. "And then the man that had tried to attack me first yesterday at the train station was there and asked me if I needed help. Not only that, but he followed me through the train station. And it just seems so…" She finished with a sigh.

Blaise maneuvered the coin through his fingers. He looked from her back to the coin repeatedly.

"Well, say something." She finally told him.

"It sounds like a bit much." She sighed and looked out the window again. Blaise continued, "It's not that I don't believe you. I just think that…look did you consider that it was just a dream?"

She began to protest but he held up a finger to silence her. "It is possible that you have noticed this man before. And maybe you used his likeness in your dream. _Maybe_ he wasn't following you through the train station for some sinister reason, but to get your phone number or out of concern. I mean you were, what _feeling a wall_ to see if you would go through it? Is it not possible that he was concerned?"

She considered this and its plausibility. It was possible. "But what about the coin and what happened to me all of yesterday?"

He motioned with the coin toward. "Well, this is from an arcade over by Piccadilly Circus. See…" He pulled another one out of his pocket. She took them both in her hands.

"Hmm…" They were identical. It was possible, she never was a patron for games. "But wait, since when do you spend your free time playing video games with children?"

He took both coins back from her and slid them into his pocket. "One, it's not just for children. But I went there on a date last weekend."

"Oh. Really?" He smiled at her smugly in return. So, she rolled her eyes and continued, "Well still what happened to me yesterday? If this was all a 'dream'?"

"My guess," he said as he flattened his hand against his chest. "Is that you have been spending too much time on work--again--and as overworked as you are, you slept through most of the day with this fever dream. It's why you have a headache and have felt out of sorts."

She tilted her head. It was plausible. She hadn't had a proper night of sleep in the past two weeks. "But…it felt so real. And I just can't shake the feeling that something is wrong."

He grumbled something incoherent under his breath before replying. "Well, dreams are like that sometimes."

She looked back out on to the street as she thought it through. Blaise continued to explain and comfort Jean. But she was focused on the rain pouring down outside processing his perspective. Most people had umbrellas or hoods thrown over their heads. They dodged puddles and rain runoff. Something about the way one man moved caught her eye, yet she watched him without really seeing him. That was until the hood of his cloak blew back in the wind. For a moment, Jean saw the pure blonde hair before it was enveloped in the billowing cloak again.

Jean leapt out of her seat causing one of the glasses fall over and douse Blaise in beer.

"What in the bloody hell?" Blaise called as she dashed out of the restaurant. As he looked out the window, he uttered one damning syllable before throwing down money on the table and chasing after her. "Fuck."

Outside, Jean could feel the rain pounding into her skin as she ran across the street. She realized she left her coat on the back of the chair, but it was too late. She ran to the building and yanked open the old door with a rather theatrical entrance. Most of the patrons in what appeared to be a pub stared at the woman who was dripping wet when she walked in. It took her a moment to spot the man standing at the bar. The hood now rested on his shoulder, she recognized him from the night before without question.

"Draco."

The man froze, before slowly turning around to stare at her with an unreadable expression.

The door just behind her was opened to a second dripping new occupant. Blaise swiped his face in an attempt to shift away from the rain. "Damnit, woman. You can't just take off like that."

But Jean did not turn around. She repeated the name. "Draco."

Blaise's jaw dropped before he had time to recover. He took a step closer to Jean. He opened his mouth to say something, but Draco silenced him with a look. One could hear a pin drop in the usually busy pub.

Draco narrowed his eyes towards Jean. "How do you know that name?"

"It's what Harry Potter called you last night. At the train station."

Draco shifted his glance to Blaise as it turned murderous. "Would you care to explain?"

"Me? I wasn't there last night, you prick."

Jean paused and looked between the two of them. "You know each other."

They both looked at her somewhat nervously. Blaise took a step forward. She took a step back. "Jean--"

"You _know_ each other."

"Jean--" Blaise began again.

She turned fully towards him. "You knew it wasn’t a dream, didn't you?" There was a temperature change in the room. Blaise opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off. "You lied to me. You tried to convince me it was a dream." Blaise's eyes shifted to her right and fear was written across his face.

She could hear Draco's voice behind her. "Everyone out. Now." She barely registered the scuffle of chairs as the other patrons exited the pub.

"How do you know him? Do you know what is going on?" She demanded of Blaise, who still looked terrified in front of her.

She almost didn't notice Draco approach her until he was just behind her. She spun around to him. Unlike Blaise, he did not cower under her gaze. He stared back down at her. "You need to calm down." He told her.

"Calm down? How dare you--"

He gritted his teeth. "If you don't calm down, you will burn this place to the ground."

She took a step back from him "What?"

"Look at your hand." He said enunciating each syllable carefully.

She narrowed her eyes at him defiantly but then turned her head to see a ball of fire flickering within in the palm of her hand. It was spitting out sparks around her that singed the wooden furniture. She gave a shout and jumped backward. The flames extinguished themselves.

"What is going on?" She shouted. Jean looked between the two men. Blaise straightened himself out, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a wand. Jean stepped back again away from him. She steeled herself against him.

Realizing this, Blaise paused and held up his hands in surrender.

"That can wait. It would appear, she is not very trusting of you right now." Draco said with a smirk.

"Oh, come on, I'm dripping wet. You are both dry already."

Jean looked down and realized he was right. She had entered the pub dripping wet from head to toe but now was nearly completely dry after only a few moments. She silently puzzled over this.

Draco spoke again. "You can wait a bit longer."

"Prick." Blaise pulled at his tie and took off his suit jacket. He put the wand back in his pocket.

Draco smirked at him. He then turned to Jean who was still examining her dry attire with confusion. "Follow me." She bit her lip. "I promise you'll be fine,” he reassured her in a gentler tone than she expected.

For a reason she couldn't explain, she trusted him. Tentatively. "Where are we going?"

"Well, we are in need of some help." He said cryptically.

Blaise smiled at that and step forward to follow them as well before adding, "And help will always be given to those who ask for it at Hogwarts." Draco sneered at him. Jean was unsure if it was because of Blaise's obvious glee or the implication that he would also be coming with them. Either way, it seemed the three of them were headed to Hogwarts.


	5. Chapter 5

"I am sorry you want me to what?"

 

"Look. I have very little patience with you right now. Take a pinch of the powder throw it into the blasted fireplace, step in and speak clearly. "

 

Blaise stood up from the chair he had watched the exchange from. "I have a brilliant idea. I will demonstrate." And indeed, he did just that.

 

After he left, Draco gestured for Jean to go next. She bit her lip before stepping forward and tentatively picking up some of the strange powder. "Hogwarts Headmistress' Office!" Then she was gone, swirling through the colors and noise before falling with a thud onto a wooden floor at Blaise's feet. He hoisted her up.

 

"You never were very graceful." As he helped right her, he brushed some of the ash off her shoulder before she swatted him away.

 

Suddenly, she could feel someone directly behind her. She looked up into Draco's silver eyes. He lingered there, just a hairs breath away. She could smell his expensive cologne that made her think of walking through a forest covered with freshly fallen snow before curling up with a book by a fire.

 

Blaise cleared his throat, and Draco left her side so quickly it was as though he was never there. He walked around the office, looking around. "Where is she?" He asked after a moment.

 

Blaise motioned towards a door. Jean took in her surroundings in a stunned silence. While her eye usually would have been drawn to the multitude of books, the number of portraits on the surrounding walls alone was enough to occupy her attention. Each occupant of the painting seemed to be sleeping, but she could have sworn a few of them murmured to one another.

 

After a moment, the door Blaise had motioned to opened, and a severe-looking woman in emerald green robes appeared. She eyed Jean only briefly before focusing her attention on Draco. "Do you think it wise to talk here?"

 

Draco's emotionless face betrayed nothing. "No."

 

"Yes, well. The others should be arriving shortly. Mr. Zabini will you accompany her down to his office?"

 

"Yes--" Blaise began.

 

"Wait, you are going to have her walk all the way thru the school?" Draco demanded.

 

"I can hear you!" Jean stated as she became aware they were going to be discussing her most likely.

 

The woman peered at Draco over her glasses, ignoring Jean. "What exactly are you proposing as an alternative?"

 

Draco paused. "We meet in the staff room and discuss it there. Leave her here."

 

"She won’t be shielded from exposure in this room.”

 

"There are a number of things in my office I would prefer kept away from curious hands."

 

"You are both crazy. If you are going to be discussing things about me, I demand to be present." Jean crossed her arms across her chest.

 

The woman pursed her lips. "Very well, both offices are out. Mr. Zabini, take her down to the Come and Go Room. It is not too far from here this year, so you should be able to take her there with little incident."

 

Blaise nodded and began to lead her away. Jean continued to protest until Blaise whispered in her ear. "If you make this easy I will find out what they say and fill you in later."

 

She considered him for a moment and realized she was not getting anywhere as the other two people in the room were ignoring her completely. "Why should I even trust you?"

 

"Because right now, what other option do you have?" He looked at her smugly before pushing her gently towards the door that headed down to the rest of the castle.

 

After they had walked for a while, Blaise came to a stop in front of a wall. In the middle of a corridor. "Could you please tell me what is going on?" Jean said as she watched him pace back and forth. Blaise seemed to be counting to himself and then repeating the process a little further down the hallway every few feet. "Would you please stop that."

 

"I'm trying to get the right spot." He said to her.

 

"What for?"

 

He grumbled something indistinguishable under his breath.

 

"Well, whenever you are finished I would love an explanation. You can pick a place to start. Maybe why you lied to me? Or how you know that man? Or what is going on? Or say, I don't know, why there was a ball of fire in my hand!"

 

"I know it is near impossible for your darling, but I would appreciate it if you could be quiet, for just a moment."

 

Jean rolled her eyes and looked around the empty corridor. She squinted and could have sworn she saw a flash of hair hide around the corner. But no one ever emerged.

 

"Come on," Blaise said getting her attention again, as he ushered her through set of double doors that had not been there a minute ago.

 

"What is this?" She asked as she stepped into the room marveling at the site before her.

 

Blaise scowled as he looked around. "I asked for a place that would make you feel comfortable and distracted…But this is not what I expected. At all."

 

They had walked into a library. Ahead of them, there was a round sitting room that had a large fireplace, leather armchairs, sofa, and a long table with chairs. Above them was a domed glass ceiling that allowed sunlight to shine down through the tree branches several stories above them. There were windows that stretched from floor to ceiling with seat cushions on either side of the fireplace. A spiral staircase went up to the next two floors of shelves that looked down on the sitting room. All three floors expanded to both the right and left with long corridors filled with shelves of priceless books. Small study nooks and window seats continued every so often down the halls. The décor was a mixture of ornate classical finishings and some modern touches. It was expansive and cozy at the same time.

 

"It's incredible," Jean whispered as she looked around her unsure of where to start. Something about it made her ache, but she could not put her finger on why. Was it just the sense of wonder at the knowledge before her? Must be…

 

Blaise studied her carefully. "Jean, does this look familiar to you at all?"

 

"No, I have never been here before." She ran her fingers along the binding as she neared the closest shelf.

 

"Hmm…" Blaise looked around.

 

As she took it all in, she barely heard Blaise mumble under his breath. "Of course, your bloody happy place is the Malfoy library. Because that is not incredibly twisted or anything."

 

"What is it? The Malfoy library?"

 

Blaise looked caught off guard. He probably did not expect her to actually hear him. "It's just some place…" He finished lamely.  "Ok, well I'm going to go dry off. I'll be back." It wasn't until he was walking away Jean noticed for the first time the way that his expensive shoes still squished as he walked.

 

Jean wandered down the aisles of the bookshelves looking through all the titles. There were so many to choose from. The ranging subjects including everything from familiar tomes on philosophy to mysterious titles about magical potions. As she wandered through the shelves, she nearly forgott everything else that had been going on until someone poked her in the back. She yelped and was promptly shushed. It appeared she was alone, but suddenly she looked down to find James, Fred, and Dominique from the day before looking up at her. "What--" They shushed her again. She lowered her voice, "What are you all doing here?"

 

"We are here for you," James told her triumphantly.

 

She looked at them puzzled.

 

"Dominique saw you being dragged here by Mr. Zabini. We have something to show you." Fred said he looked back over his shoulder. "But you have to come with us. And get out of this room. Trust me, you want to see it."

 

Jean looked around for Blaise. On the one hand, she realized even if he was finished freshening up, it may be a while before he would know she was gone.

 

But he was her friend for years. These children she had only met yesterday. She was also torn about leaving the library…

 

So far today though she had only found more questions than answers and her current trust in Blaise was iffy at best.  He brought her here to distract her from everything that was going on outside. She bit her lip. The children looked at her so hopefully. "Well, all right. I think the entrance is back this way." She said quietly.

 

"We came in over here," James motioned down the hall to a small door in the wall. She looked one more time back the expansive library before climbing through the small door.

 

When they came out, they were in a different part of the school than she had previously seen. James pulled a large piece of paper out of his robes which came alive after a few mumbled words. She felt a smile dawn on her face as she realized it was a map of the castle. She watched over his shoulder as Fred and Dominique tried to help him find the best passage back.

 

Turning to Dominique, Jean asked, "Where is your brother? Louis was it?"

 

Dominique nodded before stating rather dramatically. "Alas, we lose another Weasley to the other houses." Fred snickered as he heard her remark.

 

"Yeah, wanker ended up in Hufflepuff. Can you believe it? But Teddy took him under his wing, so I guess he _might_ still be all right. Thank Merlin it wasn't Slytherin. None of us have been sorted there yet."

 

"They aren't all that bad," Dominique said back with a slight flush on her cheeks.

 

James looked up at her and smirked. "Yeah? Anyone, we know?"

 

Dominique punched his shoulder in response. He seemed to take that as his clue. Jean watched he mumbled some more words and the ink drained from the page. They headed off down one of the corridors.

 

Dominique stopped them all after a moment, “Wait! The cloak!”

 

James shuffled his robes again a pulled out the silvery cloak and tossed it around Jean’s shoulders. She lifted her arm to look at it only to realize she could not see anything where the rest of her body should be. “What—“ she began.

 

Promptly all of the boys shushed her again. “It’s an invisibility cloak,” Dominique said quietly.

 

“We can explain later! We have to go, now.” James said and looked around the corner before waving for all of them to follow.  After a few pauses to avoid being spotted, they took off in a dash down the hall and as they ran, the hood slipped back revealing Jean’s floating head. They approached the portrait of a very large woman.

 

"You! What are you doing here?" The woman in the portrait said pointing at Jean.

 

"Flobberworm," James said quickly. He jumped up and tried to roughly pull the hood back down before Jean had the chance herself.

 

The woman in the painting scowled at them. "No adults are supposed to be allowed access."

 

"Flobberworm! You have to let us in!" James replied. Fred began to anxiously glance around them for anyone that might be coming down the hallway.

 

"I will not stand for this!"

 

"Flobberworm, flobberworm, flobberworm!" James shouted in exasperation.

 

"Fine! But I don't appreciate being treated this way!" And the portrait appeared to swing forward of its own accord. Jean pushed her questions to the back of her mind. Of all the things that have happened today, she was not sure talking portraits ranked high on the list. They stepped up and into a room that quickly fell silent staring at the odd posture of the three children.

 

Fred stepped forward, "Ladies and gentlemen of Gryffindor, we present to you…"

 

James blindly grasped until he caught the fabric of the cloak and pulled it off of her. "Hermione Granger!" He proclaimed. Cheers echoed in the room as everyone rushed forward.

 

So, there was _a chance_ that following the children was not the _best_ choice.

 


	6. Chapter 6

As the crowd of children around Jean grew, many of them shouted at her: "Where have you been?", "Did you really fly on a dragon?", "Is it true you've been hunting down dementors?", "I heard you were working in the Department of Mysteries!", and many more.

 

"Enough! Alright now, if you would all calm down for a moment I will sort out the whole situation." Some of them pretended to go back to what they had been doing before she came in while watching out of the corner of their eyes, but the vast majority stood before her with barely contained glee. "Now, I think there has been some confusion." She knelt down and looked directly at the boys. "I told you yesterday. I am not Hermione Granger. I am Jean Wilkinson."

 

Most of the other students began to grumble and walk away. One girl even told her friend, "I knew it wasn't her. Hermione Granger is much prettier." Another kid shoved the boys, "Nice going! Second day and you pull a stunt like this."

 

James looked around at the other students that still lingered around. "But she is!" He then pulled out the worn parchment she knew to be the map and focused his attention back on Jean. "Look! _I solemnly swear I am up to no good."_ He unfolded it until he found the section he wanted. He thrust it into Jean's hands while enthusiastically pointed at a spot on the map. "It says Hermione Granger."

 

She stood up and examined the map. She could see the room labeled "Gryffindor Common Room." Inside were students' names. She looked around for place markers to read it properly. Sure, enough where she stood there were four dots indicating James Potter, Fred Weasley, Dominique Weasley, and Hermione Granger. No Jean Wilkinson.

 

"James, this is just a trick. It doesn't prove anything."

 

"No! The map never lies. My father has told me the stories loads of times. The map never lies."

 

Jean wasn't intent on arguing with an 11-year-old boy. So, she examined the map closer looking for some indicators as to why it would provide the wrong information.

 

"This is why we needed you to leave the Room of Requirement. It is the only place in the castle not on the map."  Fred told her.

 

James reached up and placed his hand on hers. "I know it's you. My sister was right. You're exactly how they describe you."

 

Jean raised an eyebrow at him. "James, I am not trying to be mean, but I am not who you think I am."

 

James was prepared to protest again but Dominique interrupted. "Ok, let's say this, if we can ask you a few questions, we'll figure out which of us right?"

 

She looked at all of their faces skeptically. "What exactly will that prove?"

 

Fred responded, "Well, we will write down what Hermione Granger would say, and we'll see if it matches."

 

She mulled it over in her mind, but really what did she have to lose? "Okay." She paused. "Only if I can ask you questions in return." The three children nodded enthusiastically.

 

They turned away from her in a huddle, before scribbling something done on spare parchment. After a moment, they turned back around. Dominique and James nodded at Fred indicating he would ask. "When _you_ have problem, where is the first place _you_ go?"

 

Jean was more confused than anything else. "What?"

 

"Where do you go when you have a problem?"

 

"What kind of question is that?"

 

"One Hermione Granger would know the answer to."

 

"The internet?"

 

The children seemed disappointed with this answer and whispered amongst themselves. James shook his head at what the others said. "It's a Muggle thing." She heard him say before he directed another question to her. "What if you can't get to the internet?"

 

"I don't know…the library?" They seemed much happier as they showed her their matching answer.

 

James opened his mouth to ask another question, but Jean held up her hand to stop him.

 

"My turn. This…this cloak. It really makes you invisible? To everyone?” They all nodded eagerly. “And it works through…magic?” They smiled back at her nodding again. She didn’t know what to make of it and simply pulled it back from James' grasp and ran her hands over the silky fabric.

 

The children whispered amongst themselves again. Fred stepped forward, “So, how did you feel about school?”

 

She looked up and raised an eyebrow at them. “In general? I would say that I rather enjoyed school.”

 

The boy flipped their parchment over, “Loves it, can’t get enough.”

 

She rolled her eyes, “That doesn’t prove anything. You said Dominique saw me with Mr. Zabini. How do you know him?"

 

"Mr. Zabini? He works at the Ministry with Uncle Percy." Dominique responded first.

 

"And he is friends with Malfoy." Fred piped in.

 

"Malfoy? Is that a person then?" She thought back to what Blaise had said in the library.

 

"Yes, he is the potions master here." Dominique explained.

 

"The room that you took me from, is it his?"

 

All three looked confused. "No, the Room of Requirement doesn't belong to anyone." James stated.

 

"Next question," Fred spoke. "What is your patronus?"

 

"My what?"

 

Dominique smacked Fred on the back of the head. "She doesn't remember that magic is real, how would she even know what a patronus is?"

 

Fred's face flushed. "Oh yeah…"

 

"So you all truly believe magic is real?" She asked them. They all nodded. She paused. Did she? She wasn't sure anymore. Some of the things she had seen the day before could be explained as tricks and illusions. Except for how she got home last night, today's ball of fire, her transportation by fireplace and the cloak. How could she explain any of that? Magic…maybe…

 

"Right. Well…can all of you do magic?"

 

James walked forward. "I can do loads of magic already."

 

Dominique rolled her eyes. Fred pushed James in the back and laughed, "Yeah the same way he can also drive a car and has never fallen off his broom."

 

James glared at his cousins. Jean suppressed a smile. "So hypothetically, some people could create a fire in their hands that wouldn't burn them?" She asked them.

 

"Sure, there are spells for that." Fred responded.

 

She nodded thinking about her experience at the pub. While she thought it over, she told them they could ask their next question. She heard them whispering amongst themselves again. After a few moments though she realized they still hadn't said anything. When she looked at them, she realized they were all trying to get the other to ask the question. Finally, Dominique stepped forward. "Do you have a scar on your arm? There?" She said pointing briefly.

 

Jean placed her hand over the mark she knew was hidden under the sleeve of her shirt. "Did you see it yesterday?"

 

All three stepped forward. "So, you do?"

 

"Answer the question." She told them flatly.

 

Dominique looked a little hurt by the tone in her voice, "No, you had your coat on the whole time."

 

Jean realized they had no reason to lie to her. She rubbed her arm. Taking a deep breath, she rolled up her sleeve. Each of the children flinched at the sight of it. Dominique reached a hand out before she froze and looked up into Jean's eyes questioning. Jean nodded. Dominique reached out and traced the scar, as if to feel that it was real. She quickly stepped back and nodded to the boys. There was no need to confirm their answer.

 

Dominique seemed to have an epiphany. "Oh! I'll be right back." She raced back up the stairs. Fred and James stood there and stared at her.

 

"Bloody hell." Fred said and then he walked over to flop down into one of the armchairs.

 

She considered the implications that they knew about her scar. It was an unusual scar that often unnerved people around her. She had grown used to it over the years and the accompanying stares. She was unsure why it the lines at times looked like letters, _mudblood._

 

Dominique came bounding down the stairs waving something in the air. When she finally got down to the bottom of the stairs she handed it to Jean. It was a photograph. That was moving. It appeared to be taken a Christmas morning around the tree with the wrapping paper sprinkled throughout. Jean studied it slowly. The boys also crowded around. James smiled watching the people in the photograph.

 

Fred looked over at Dominique, "You brought this with you?"

 

Dominque shrugged, "Yeah, I nicked it from my dad's study. He never looks at any more. Probably won't even realize it's gone."

 

While there were many people in the frame, Jean traced her finger of the image of figure who sat on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. A young woman bounced a baby with black hair in her lap. Just before the animation restarted, she turned towards the camera with the baby to wave. But the remarkable thing was not only the strong resemblance to Jean, but that when she turned to the camera, ever so slightly, you could see the word 'mudblood' on the inside of her forearm.

 

Were they right? Could they be right?

 

Even if the resemblance could be ignored, how could she explain the scar? The way everyone had reacted in the past two days? If magic was real, how could she determine what was and wasn't real? Was the photo real? Was she going mad? Were the children being honest? Was anyone?

 

But she knew her life. There were no gaps. She grew up in London. Just after she finished university, she moved to live with her Aunt Monica and Uncle Wendell in Australia. Then two years ago she moved back England when she got her book deal. She had lived in her Oxford flat since then. Her parents had died when she was still in school. She always had trouble sustaining friendships for long periods of time. But she preferred to be alone. Right?

 

Harry had whispered obliviate last night. Had he done this to her? Was it possible that there was this other life that she had lived? Or did she have a twin out there that had the same scar? Was any of this real? Or was her life that she knew real? Was it possible they both were?

 

The pounding her head returned full force. Her breath escaped her. She began walking backwards. She saw them begin to look concerned but she could no longer process it all. She kept walking backwards. She looked back down at the cloak, the photo and the map still clutched in her hand with the name Hermione Granger moving further and further away from the names of James, Dominique, and Fred.

 

"I'm sorry." She said and before they had time to respond, she threw the cloak over herself and ran out through the portrait hole and down the hall. She didn't know where she was going, but she was just running. Running from her concerns, her thoughts, the events of the day, the hope in the children's eyes. She needed time to think, away from everything and everyone else.


	7. Chapter 7

She wasn't quite sure how she managed it, but she found herself outside. She had turned so many corners and gone down so many hallways; she could have never recounted how she got here. The moving staircases were certainly an eye-opening experience. But now she stood on the bank of the lake the wind swirled around her. She pressed the photograph and the map against her chest as she slowed her breathing. After a few moments, she collapsed down onto the ground and folded the cloak over her lap. She stayed there gazing out onto the lake.

 

She looked down at the photograph again. Most of the people in the frame were redheads. In the center of the room to the left of the tree sat a rather plump older woman in a large comfy chair. An older man leaned on the armrest smiling down at the two toddlers that the wiggled around in the woman's lap. Another man with a scar across his face stood behind the chair. His arm was wrapped around the waist of a blonde woman and winked at the little girls when they turned around.

 

In front of the tree, the couple she had met yesterday, Harry and Ginny, sat on the floor watching a blue-haired boy unwrap what appeared to be a broom. In the corner of the frame, a tall woman with long black braids appeared briefly carrying a baby on her hip. She exited the frame as she appeared to be scolding someone out of sight. Another red-haired man entered the frame and took a seat on the floor to join those watching the boy open the broom next to 'Hermione Granger.'

 

But all of the people in this photo looked like they were her friends. Maybe even family. How come she didn't remember them? If they were that close, why was Harry trying to make her forget? Was he responsible for why she couldn't remember? Who is to say they won't do it again?

 

But why would Harry have told his children about her then? Why did everyone seem to know about this Hermione Granger? It was as if she was some sort of celebrity. She wasn't sure how much time had passed as she contemplated her situation.

 

Across the way, she saw two people approach her. She stood up and gathered her things. Fight or flight? She had nothing at her disposal. As real as magic appeared to be, it didn't seem wise to take her chances. _Investigate_. She crouched down though and moved forward to get a better look. She had no knowledge to guide her path. Somewhere along the way, her tennis shoe snagged the edge of a rock. And then another. On the third trip, she had enough momentum that she fell hard to the ground. The map and photo flying out of her hands and into the wind.

 

"No!" She shouted and began to frantically head in the direction they flew. They were the only true clues she had that made this whole experience feel real. She clamored back down and over the slight hill only to come face to face with the two figures.

 

She froze. She could see the blue-haired boy from the train and another boy just behind him. He slowly lifted his left hand holding the map and the photo he must have caught. She simply stared at his outreached hand for a moment before taking them out of his grasp.

 

"Thanks."

 

He nodded and then turned to his companion, "Hey Towler, why don't you head back up the castle? Check in with Professor McGonagall." Towler gave him a curious look but eventually took his cue to leave.

 

The blue-haired boy turned back to her and smiled. "Hi."

 

She studied him. While she doubted that he intended her harm nor to misinform her, she wasn't entirely sure whether to trust him. She kept her tense stance and distance but responded. "Hello."

 

They both awkwardly stared at each other for a few minutes. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "That's me in the photo there."

 

She looked him and then back at the photo. "The little boy with the broom."

 

He nodded again and dropped his hand back to his side. "I take it you don't wish to return to the castle."

 

She gave a brief uncertain smile. "Honestly, no."

 

"Well…that makes sense." He replied awkwardly.

 

She considered her options. She needed answers. He knew "Hermione." But could she trust him? She wasn't sure that she could trust Harry or Ginny given their involvement the day before. Draco seemed to keep her intentionally misinformed, and Blaise may have been lying to her for years.

 

"So, you knew…her?" She asked him tentatively pointing at the girl in the photo that resembled her. He nodded. "How old were you?"

 

He looked off to the side as he counted. "Five, six?"

 

 "So, you have memories of… Hermione Granger?"

 

He nodded. "Some."

 

In turn, she nodded. Her eyes looked at the ground as though searching for the best question to follow up with.

 

"S-she was my favorite." He offered quietly. Her head snapped up. He sheepishly smiled back his hair shifted to a red color. "Aunt of sorts that is."

 

"Really? Why?"

 

He shrugged. "Ginny was great of course, famous Quidditch player to top it off. And Susan's nice. Hannah and Angelina always played along with games and tricks. Whenever Luna was in the country, it led to …interesting adventures." He gave her a lopsided grin with a slight chuckle that faltered when she didn't get the joke. He cleared his throat before continuing. "But Hermione always had more of a link to my father than the others. Books, cleverness, creature rights." He paused.  "She always read to me. Not just kid books about knights and Tales of Beedle the Bard, but Hogwarts A History and some muggle books."

 

A silence settled over them. "Muggle?" she asked tentatively.

 

"Non-magical," he replied.

 

She nodded. "…Quidditch?"

 

"Um…flying sort of sport." He rubbed the back of his neck and contorted his face trying to envision the right answer.

 

"Creature rights?"

 

"Oh…um…you know…equal rights for magical…beings." He continued to rub the back of his neck nervously.

 

She looked at him puzzled before accepting that it may be a conversation for another time. Another silence stretched out. "Did you not know your father?"

 

"He died shortly after I was born." It was a solemn statement spoken with a rehearsed candor.

 

"Oh." She shifted her weight, "I'm sorry."

 

He picked his head up a little further with pride. "He died fighting alongside my mother in the Battle of Hogwarts."

 

She nodded mutely before processing. "Wait, battle? Hogwarts is here. There was a battle here? Recently? Well somewhat recently, I suppose I mean."

 

"Yep." He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. His face twisted as he tried to choose his next words. "It's a long story."

 

"Oh," she said as the awkward silence descended upon them once again. "For being five or six, you seem to remember…Hermione very fondly."

 

"I mean it's not like that wasn't the last time I saw her."

 

"Oh," she replied quietly.

 

"…Hermione was around a lot for a couple more years after that picture …And then there were the stories."

 

She studied him. "Stories?"

 

He nodded and nudged a pebble with his shoe. "Stories in the paper about y-h-her history whenever there was a new sighting or …incident." She furrowed her brow but allowed him to continue, not wanting to miss anything. "To the wizarding world, she was the brilliant muggleborn friend of Harry Potter that tried saving the world one group of magical creatures at a time. 'The perfect beckon of shining light.' But to my family and her friends, she was a force of nature 'as terrifying as she was brilliant.'" He smiled fondly at her before shifting his glance to the pebble on the ground again. "So there were always stories."

 

"Why?" She asked him without even meaning to.

 

"Why what?" He now looked puzzled.

 

"Why does everyone care? Why does everyone know her? What happened to her?" She poured out just a few of the questions she could no longer hold in.

 

"Yeah, I am probably not a great person to ask. For any of those questions." He said, and a rubbed at the back of his neck.

 

"Oh." She said feeling deflated remembering again this was just a boy. She trusted him because of his innocence, but that also meant he knew less of the world.

 

"But…" Teddy said, and her curiosity peaked.  "I know what they told us when we were kids."

 

She motioned for him to continue.

 

He sighed, "I don’t think they knew what was going on at first. I was told she was going away for a while. But after weeks, I overheard Harry and Ginny talking. They found me out in the hall and told me that Hermione was sick. Too sick for visitors. But I shouldn't worry because she would be home soon. But…"

 

"…She never came home." She filled in for him as he nodded.

 

"More and more time passed. There were lots of hushed whispers and even a couple arguments about it. But they just told us, eventually, that we probably wouldn't see you again."

 

He didn't correct himself that time, and neither did she.

 

Silence settled on them. A sickness? Could a sickness cause memory loss? None of them tried to help her? Let her know what was going on? What did this have to do with Harry attempting to put a spell on her the night before? She was oblivious to the silence that settled upon them as her mind whirled through these thoughts.

 

She turned and looked back up to the castle and bit her lip. She suddenly became aware of the fact that this boy was probably waiting for her to head back to the school. "Um… well…you should head back up to the castle. I'm sure you have studying to do."

 

He the corner of his mouth twitched into a smile. "Of course."  He gestured towards the path indicating she go first.

 

She bit her lip again with hesitation.

 

His smiled faded. "They're good people you know? Harry, Ginny, and the rest. I get that there's a lot going on right now. But they are good people. Helped raise me. You know, after my parents… You can trust them. …Hermione was important to them, so if nothing else know they would never mean to hurt you. If you are--I mean--if they think you are her. It's not a bad thing." He blushed, and his hair shifted color briefly as he stumbled through his words and she smiled at him.

 

"Thanks, I will try to consider that. But," She paused. "I think I'll make my way back on my own. You should go on."

 

He looked torn but eventually took his leave, and he smiled at her as he walked away. Or maybe it was a smile to someone just behind her. It was hard to tell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read and review! Thanks for the comments so far :)


	8. Chapter 8

She watched Teddy's figure retreat back up the path to the castle for a moment before she heard a gruff voice. She was suddenly knocked forward as the bounding force of a dog collided with her. The long licks to her face told her at least he was friendly.

 

"Blimey! 'Ermione? What are you doin' 'ere? Yeh're back?"

 

As she pushed the boarhound off of her, she could see the large hulking man that had approached. "I'm not--" She paused.  "I…I was just coming out for some air."  She thought back on Teddy's advice. Asserting her name was not something that helped much so far. She wasn't even sure of the truth anymore. Perhaps it was best to go along with misidentification at the moment.

 

"Didn' even know yeh were back." He sat down beside her. "Missed yeh, I did." He smiled at her, which she tentatively returned. The dog walked over the edge of the water, no longer interested in the stranger on the hill. "An' I'm not the only one."

 

She wasn't able to keep herself from asking, "Who else?"

 

"All of us. Well, that surly bloke of yehrs for one. You were almost everthin' ter Ron an' Harry."

 

Surly? She made note of the new name. "Where is Ron?"

 

He looked at confused. "This time of night, he might still be at the shop. Haven't yeh bin by?"

 

"No…not recently." It was technically true.

 

He nodded. "Took him a while ter get back ter normal but Susan's a great girl. She really helped him along."

 

She nodded. She didn't know what else she was supposed to say. She had no recollection of any of these people. So, she watched the dog sniff around the nearby trees.

 

"How are yehr folks?" He asked.

 

She looked up confused. "My parents?"

 

"Last I saw yeh, yeh were headin' down there ter see them. Heard yeh stayed with 'em fer a few years."

 

Not knowing where "down there" was or anything about Hermione Granger's parents, she replied simply. "They're fine." It seemed like a safe bet to stay optimistically vague.

 

The man shook his head. "Sad story an' all. That memory charm business is tricky stuff. But I hear Australia's nice. Charlie said there's a fine herd of Antipodean Opaleye in the northern areas now." He tried to send her a reassuring smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

 

This suddenly peaked her interest. Memory charms. Was that what obliviate was? "What do you know about them?"

 

He scratched at what she assumed to be his chin underneath his illustrious beard. "Supposed ter be a friendlier breed. But they're a very misunderstood creature ter begin with, dragons. The Opaleye can live in--"

 

She furrowed her brow taken aback. "What? No, no. I meant about memory charms?" But she did make a mental note to revisit the premise that dragons were real.

 

He seemed less interested in the topic. "Not much. On account of…you know…" He tipped what appeared to be an umbrella at her before continuing. "But even proper wizards have a difficult time with those. People can end up unable ter spell their own name or remember a thin'. But all of 'em are darned hard ter reverse. Just like with yehr folks. Often can't be… well… without torture…" He shuddered. "Didn' yeh study 'em awhile back? All the charms, potions an' all that?"

 

Her face flushed. "Just wondering what you knew." Well, she thought, that's not a very promising. Hopefully there were more options and answers than that. Then she recalled exactly what he said. _Her parents_. He was talking about Hermione's parents and memory charms. Hermione's parents were currently still under the effects of a memory charm. In Australia. Where she herself had lived for several years after uni. She chewed on her lip for a moment. "How long has it been since we saw each other?"

 

"I dunno. Blimey. 'Bout 10 years or so? Just afta the school year ended. I think?"

 

It would have been 2005 then right after she graduate university. She had moved to Australia early that fall. She had lived in Australia with her aunt and uncle for a few years… What was the year on the card for when Hermione was last seen? 2005? Somewhere around then, she thought. That fit too…What if…

 

"Summat the matter? I haven't see yeh for a long time, but I can tell something's eating yeh up."

 

She looked at his kind face. "I…" she quietly started again. "I honestly feel like I don't know anything anymore."

 

"Why? Yeh're the smartest witch I ev'r met!" He gave her what should have been a comforting hand on the shoulder, but it came with such force it temporarily knocked the wind right out of her. "There's not a problem they can come up with that yeh can't solve."

 

Her eyes watered. She studied him again and saw the genuine pride shining through his eyes. It was comforting and filled her a slight warmth but guilt began to fester. The compliment wasn't directed at her but someone else. Or perhaps someone she used to be. In either case, she felt like she was stealing a moment from someone else's life because she wasn't the same girl. The weight of the encounter and the day fell heavily upon her. She smiled back at him and gathered her things. "Well I should probably head back in."

 

"Right, us too. Come on, Dozer." He called for the dog and headed towards a small cabin. She took one last look around the landscape before heading back up to the castle. The lights began to shine through the windows and glittered in the reflection off the lake. It truly was a beautiful sight.

 

As she got closer to the doors of the castle, she pulled out the map again. Minerva McGonagall paced the entrance hall. She heard a distant noise muffled through sound of the large doors. Apparently, Minerva McGonagall heard it too and headed off down the corridor.

 

Taking the opportunity, she threw the invisibility cloak over herself and snuck inside the castle. She held her breath as a student walked down the corridor, but they never paid her any mind. She took a deep breath and trusted the cloak to provide her some more time to wander alone and unnoticed.

 

She wandered thru the winding halls passing a few students along the way chatting amongst themselves. As she rounded one corner she quickly ducked behind an alcove behind a statue as she saw the people she knew to be Harry and Ginny walking down the corridor. It took her moment to remember with the cloak they would not see her anyways and left the safety of the alcove to eavesdrop on their conversation a little better.

 

"I just cannot believe it!" Ginny nearly shouted at him.

 

"I didn't think that--"

 

"You didn't think that letting our 11-year-old son keep the map and an invisibility cloak would be a bad idea?"

 

Harry's face flushed and he rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't think anything would happen."

 

"Harry, you had them when you were that age and used them to go after a bloody madman who was trying to kill you! More than once! How could you not consider that there was a possibility something would go wrong?"

 

"Well, I mean it's not like Teddy hasn't stolen them every year for the last three years…" He trailed off.

 

"Teddy what?" Ginny spun around to look at him. It appeared that she had not been aware of this information prior.

 

"Look, Gin, keeping that map at home would only drive us mad with checking on his location all the time like it nearly did Teddy's first year."

 

"You didn't think that I wouldn't have wanted to do the same for our own son?" She slapped his arm.

 

"Hey! I just--"

 

"Harry James Potter, if you offer me one more excuse I will fix you so quickly with a Bat-Bogey Hex you won't know what hit you." She looked at him fiercely with wand in hand.

 

Harry hesitantly reached out and smoothed down her shoulders. "Gin, it's going to be alright. Everyone is fine. It's going to be okay, you know that right?"

 

Ginny's eyes shined a little brighter and her anger visibly deflated within her. "It's just…Hermione's here. She is really finally here and performing magic and we can't even find her…all because of your stupid arse."

 

He chuckled and leant his forehead against his wife's. They stayed that way for a moment in silence.

 

"Harry, I just don't think I can do it again. If we lose her again, I just…" Several tears trickled out of Ginny's eyes. "I would hate to sit back and watch it happen. _Again_. But even more, I hate that she has just spent years now, wandering around. Alone. When I saw her yesterday, I just… something snapped."

 

Harry sighed. "I know." Another moment of silence stretched out between them.

 

Ginny swallowed and began again. "I know I can't blame her for wanting her family back, but every time I think of her, I blame her parents. For no real reason than existing. I blame us for letting her go. I blame Voldemort for setting this all in motion. And well, everything else. But I blame everything. Every stupid thing I can think of. She spent years working on a way to get her parents back. But it all backfired. We lost her. We keep losing her. Every time we go through this I feel…I feel like another piece of me goes with her."

 

"Gin…" He paused and looked around.

 

"What?" Ginny asked noticing his unease, placed her hands on his arms that will still wrapped around her.

 

"I thought I heard someone…" He said.

 

Their eavesdropper walked backwards away from them picking up speed the further she made it down the corridor away from them.

 

Ginny seemed genuinely heartbroken about not being able to find "Hermione." But why? And why did it appear as though Harry had attacked her the night before if they missed Hermione so much? And what could she make out of her conversations with Teddy and the large man by the lake? They all seemed to care so genuinely, but it didn't add up.

 

Was she cursed? Or sick? Or had they done this to her? From the conversation between Harry and Ginny it seemed as though this might the result of a misfired spell while trying to remove the memory charm from her parents. Well, she countered in her head. That is if she was willing to believe that she was Hermione Granger and what they all said was true.

 

She was finding it harder and harder to completely refute the idea that at some point she was someone else. That magic was real. That there was another life she had forgotten. That the life she knew was a lie.

 

She kept moving without thinking yet somehow, she had ended up standing outside of what appeared to be a library. A library was as good a place as any to sort herself out. She quickly walked in and away from the front, hopefully avoiding anyone that would notice her invisible presence.

 

She wound her way through the shelves until she was near the back and found a table that was tucked out of the way and would provide her the opportunity to see anyone that maybe coming towards her. She found herself on the map and saw that there were no others in the library aside from Irma Pince in an office near the front. Probably dinner time. At that realization, she felt her stomach grumble. Soon, she thought. There were more important things first. She folded up the map and grabbed both that and the photo.

 

If Hermione Granger was as well-known as the children made her out to be then she may be in one of these books. But where to start? She kept thinking to herself that all she needed was a book that would begin to explain how all of this came together. But she wasn't sure she would even recognize a book like that if she saw it.  She ran her fingers across the bindings. "I just need a book to understand where this all started," she mumbled to herself. Suddenly, she saw something move out of the corner of the eye just before something slammed into the side of her head.

 

"Ouch." She rubbed her head and braced searching for an attacker, but only found a book on the floor. " _Hogwarts: A History…_ "

 

She picked it up. She felt the worn leather and grooves of the letters in the title. She felt a slight spark. Electric. Energizing and painful at the same time. She looked around again. Where had it come from? Was this more magic? Could it be that this book would help her? She shuffled through the pages. It appeared to be written entirely about the school.

 

Well, it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read and review!


	9. Chapter 9

Every word she read seemed to jump off the page. She felt both overwhelmed and under informed. She devoured page after page of the strange encyclopedia of information about the school. She read about its founding and the four houses; about the ousting of Salazar Slytherin; about the deadly duels of 1100 A.D., and about the start of the Triwizard Tournaments. She began to match some of the places described with their locations on the map. She eyed the Great Hall, where the students seemed to be finishing up their dinner and mostly heading to their respective common rooms. She saw Harry and Ginny walking through the trophy room, which held the honors and plaques for those who had won and died during the Triwizard Tournaments. She continued to read and flip through the pages of the large tome in front of her until the feeling of being watched slowly dawned on her.

She looked up to see a small boy standing behind her. His slight frame was dominated by his mess of curly black hair (a plight she could relate to) and bright blue eyes, which were currently wide with amazement. “Wow,” he said in a small utterance. For the moment, she thought he was looking right at her.

He then suddenly reached forward, until his hand collided with her shoulder and he jumped back startled.

“Excuse me!” She said a bit perturbed by his manners.

The boy now whipped around looking wildly expecting to be scolded by someone that would suddenly appear. It was at that moment, she realized the invisibility cloak was still firmly wrapped around her. He hadn’t been looking at her at all, but rather the map of the castle. His earlier action had been in an attempt to pick it up.

She removed the hood in the attempt to explain, “Hello—” She began, but it would appear her floating head did little calm him.

He stuttered in between deep breaths. “Her-Hermione Granger! By Merlin.” Then his hands gripped the side of his face. His expression would have been comical had she not been genuinely concerned about him. She looked around them before standing to remove the cloak entirely.

“Hello.” She said slowly and quietly. “Are you alright?” She asked him.

He dropped his hands to his side before motioning at her. “You’re Hermione Granger. I heard you were seen, but you’re here. You’re at my table. And you’re here. In the library. Talking to me. And I’m rambling. Merlin. Hermione Granger.” He trailed off looking to the side in some sort of state of shock.

It was her turn to watch him with wide eyes. “Um…are you alright?” She asked him tentatively. She wasn’t sure he could withstand the discussion to correct him on her identity. She took in his appearance again. In particular, the green tie wrapped around his neck. “So you’re in Slytherin?” She attempted to talk to him about anything to calm him.

He nodded before snapping his head up and waved his hands back and forth. “No!” He said suddenly, “I mean, yes! But not that kind of Slytherin. You know, I don’t hate muggle-borns! I don’t. You should know that. You know enough of us. Right? Right. We-we aren’t all evil. It's just… you know… the most notable ones.” He winced, seemingly in fear of her reaction.

She nodded, “Ok…well…that’s good.” She finished unsure of where to go from here seeing as her attempt at small talk failed so epically. She then recalled from the book, “Merlin was sorted in Slytherin.”

He perked up. “Yes! True. Merlin. He was. And Phineas Bourne, who created the Polyjuice Potion. And Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic.” He recited to her eagerly. He seemed to take a deep breath every few words in order to sustain his quick speech. He paused, brows furrowed. “Of course, you know that. You’re Hermione Granger.” He chastised himself under his breath.

She reached out to him and put a reassuring hand on his arm. She recognized her own nervous reliance on knowledge in his speech. “No, it’s alright. Thank you for telling me.” She paused, “Why don’t you just tell me your name?”

He smiled sheepishly up at her. “Sebastian. Sebastian Nott.”

“It is nice to meet you, Sebastian.” She smiled at him. “But I think now that I have been found out I should be on my way.”

He looked up at her confused. “Why?”

“Well…” She paused. She was no longer sure. She was still trying to figure things out in her mind and investigate on her own, but at some point, she would need to get her answers. Preferably from trust worthy adults. “Actually…it might be time for me to go find some answers.” She paused before continuing a bit more firmly. “Talk to some adults. Find out more about…what is going on right now.”

He looked puzzled for a moment before nearly jumping. “I can help you! I can take you to Un-I mean Professor Malfoy!”

She tried not to allow her suspicion show on her face. Based on her previous encounters she did not think he was her best bet. He seemed to dislike her and was resolute on keeping her uninformed. He may very well have been the one pulling the strings, as he was a connections between Harry and Blaise. Although, she should not forget about the attacker/stalker from the train… Perhaps Draco was not that bad on second thought… “Well… I don’t know…”

He stuttered again briefly. “But-but…what? Why not?” He seemed befuddled by her reluctance. His big blue eyes pleading with her for answer.

She bit her lip. Considering his earlier stumble it was likely this man was his uncle and held a great deal of respect in the eyes of this child. She knew none of these people. It was not her right to diminish Sebastian’s view of Draco. “Well, I suppose that would be fine.”

His smile beamed up at her, which she returned tentatively. She gathered the book, photo, and map into hand. She looked down at the cloak. It seemed pointless to put it back on, so she folded it over her arm. Sebastian picked up his school bag off the floor, and they began to exit the library. He began to resume his nervous commenting as they walked through the library.

“So did you always like to sit there? When you were at Hogwarts? I like it. Hidden… I don’t have to…” He trailed off momentarily. “Well, it's out of the way. Is that why you sat there?” He looked up at here once again imploring her to explain with his bright eyes from underneath the curly mop of hair perched on his head.

She felt a little nervous having no recollection of where “Hermione” preferred to sit. Thinking of her own choice to sit there, she simply nodded.

His smile brightened. “Me too. Well. I said that already. But still.” He continued to ramble a bit about the library itself as they walked, which brought a sweet smile to her face.

“Sebastian,” she interjected. “Could you tell me how I could check out this book?” Gesturing to Hogwarts: A History still clutched in her hands.

He nodded. “I can check it out for you! Books are only checked out to students and teachers. But I’ll just get it for you!” He eagerly grabbed the book and ran off in the direction of the front desk leaving her amused by the entrance.

A couple of boys walked through the library door to her left and paused upon seeing her. While she adjusted a bit to Sebastian’s genuine gaze of awe, this new stare of shocked assessment reminded her of this strange world in which she currently found herself. She was suddenly afraid that she might be found to be lacking, even by these teenagers. She recognized one that had accompanied Teddy earlier out by the lake.

He smiled at her and approached her first. “Hi! I’m Anthony Towler. Nice to meet you, Hermione Granger.” He stuck out his hand. A couple of his friends elbowed each other at his boldness and moved towards her as well.

She reached out and took it. “Nice to meet you as well.” Behind Anthony, she could see Sebastian bouncing over to her only to stop mid-step. His face paled and shoulders drooped. The sparkling smile he sported just a moment before dropped into a frown. As did hers as she considered this change. She dropped Anthony’s hand and waved over Sebastian. Sebastian slowly approached and passed the book back to her.

Anthony scowled at the younger boy. Less than a second later, he spoke to Sebastian. “What do you want?”

Sebastian lifted his head briefly and looked uncomfortable before taking a step towards the door. She took a step after him in order to place a hand on his shoulder. He turned slightly back towards her and looked up briefly without meeting her eyes.

She continued to be puzzled over this interaction. “Excuse me, but Sebastian has actually been helping me out.”

Anthony looked at a bit taken a back. One of the other boys in his group spoke up, “You know his father was Death Eater scum, right? The whole lot of them. Prejudiced bastards who don’t deserve a second chance.”

She looked out down at Sebastian in the corner of her eye to see his eyes glued to the floor, his face tinged pink all the way to his ears. She furrowed her brow as she addressed the older boys. “Well, I don’t know about all that, but he has been nothing but kind and helpful to me. So if you don’t mind, we will be on our way. We have someone to see.”

With her hand still clamped on Sebastian’s shoulder, she steered him past Anthony’s sputtering group and into the corridor. Sebastian's eyes were still glued to the floor as they walked down the corridor. “You-you-you didn’t have to do that.”

She looked down at him with heartfelt concern. She didn’t understand much of what the other boys had said, but it didn’t matter. It was clear to her there was no way this small curious child could have done anything to be labeled irredeemable. “Sebastian. Do people often talk to you like that?”

He continued to look down at the ground and shrugged his shoulders.

She debated what to say that could possibly say to cheer him up. Whether she was or wasn’t “Hermione Granger” didn’t matter. He looked up to her and in this moment he needed someone he could look up. Someone he could relate to. Truthfully, she saw a lot of herself in him. So, she just decided to be honest. Whoever she was. “You know… People used to pick on me.” She saw him lift his head a little to look at her briefly so she continued on. “People said nasty things to me just because I was different. A little too swotty. A little too much hair. A little too… something… But no one can tell you who you are. You choose who you are, what matters to you, and what you stand for. And some day you will show them all what they missed out on. And if you believe in yourself, you will find friends that believe in you too.”

He looked up a towards her tentatively. “You were picked on?”

She gave him a sad smile. “Yes.”

He rolled his eyes, “But you’re Hermione Granger!”

“It doesn’t matter. It happens to everyone.” He looked up at her again, still struggling to accept that she was telling the truth.

Meanwhile, she was struggling with her own truth. She realized it was becoming easier and easier to respond as “Hermione”, which simultaneously alarmed and calmed her. Maybe she was starting to accept that identity and this world as truth? So many questions still needed answers, yet each time she responded as “Hermione” it felt less like role-playing and more like a natural part of her life. For no real reason at all. As they walked along, she shifted her mind to what could trigger his prior enthusiasm to resurface and provide her a little more information about what they were going into. “So, tell me what you think about Professor Malfoy.”

He looked up with an enthusiastic smile. “He’s great! I’m sure you know that, but he and my dad have been friends their whole lives. He taught me how to fly. He’s also the potion master, of course. He’s created potions, found things, and just so much. He traveled the whole world. Some people think he is mean, but he isn’t. Really, he isn’t. Though, I did hear dad say he just needs to get—” They both rounded a corner to head down the stairs and walked smack into a tall red-haired man.

He looked down at Sebastian with a slightly smug smile. “For the record, I agree with your father, no matter the end of the sentence.” The man readjusted and looked up at her briefly without actually making eye contact. “I think I can take it from here. You should be heading back to your common room. Second years are only supposed to be out until 8 if I remember correctly.”

Sebastian looked reluctantly between the two them before nodding “Alright, Mr. Weasley.” And he began walking away down the corridor. He paused and looked back at her. “I’ll see you later?”

She smiled kindly at him and nodded.

His beaming smile returned before he headed on down the stairs further down the corridor.

Just as he headed around the next corner, her guard went back up. She considered the man before her. His gentle, shy smile made him seem unimposing even though due to his height he towered over her. What could have been lanky frame seemed to have developed the addition of a slight beer belly over his years, which almost struck her as funny for an unknown reason.

While she was oblivious to her own staring, the man chuckled uncomfortably to break the silence. “So…”

She realized how rude she was being. “I’m sorry. I’m—”

He grimaced slightly. “You don’t have to introduce yourself to me.”

She was reminded of her current situation in this strange world. “Oh.”

He looked uncomfortable as she was, unable to make eye contact with her and continue to look somewhere just above her collar bone. Perhaps at the scar that remained from a car accident in her teens.

“And you are…”

His smile took up place easily on his face once again. “Ronald Weasley.”

She connected the name to the brief discussions with Teddy and the man by the lake. “So you’re Ron.”

He nodded his head. “Yep.”

She bit her lip trying to remember the other facts about Ron she had heard. “You’re involved with a woman named Susan.”

His brow furrowed in confusion “Yes…”

“And you work in a shop of some kind?”

“Yes…” He continued shocked that she would be aware of such information.

“And you believe you know me?” She boldly asked.

He faltered, no longer focused on the confusion, but there rested some form of despair within in his entire being. He didn’t respond, but his silence was enough for the both of them to know. While she was hesitant to trust many of the adults in this new world. He seemed to be one of the few that she had heard of she did not recognize from her daily life, nor had he tried to harm her. Yet.

“So, shall we get this show on the road?” He asked her.

Scrutinizing him again, she came to the conclusion that at least on the surface there was nothing threatening about him. And she really needed answers. She bit her lip briefly before nodding her head. He turned, and they continued heading down the corridor towards a set of stairs that Sebastian had descended only moments ago.

As they walked in silence, the portraits mostly whispered to each other. Ron looked at her a few times as they walked as though there was something he wanted to say, but decided against it every time.  
  
"So…where are we going?"  
  
"The staffroom."  
  
She pursed her lip in disappointment. "Oh."  
  
Ron looked at her out of the corner of his eye. He smiled. "Not really a fan myself."  
  
They kept walking for a few minutes in silence descending down the stairs. "So, is the ceiling in the Great Hall really enchanted to look like the sky outside?" She asked tentatively.  
  
Ron smiled, "Yes."  
  
She bit her lip, "And is it honestly lit by a thousand floating candles?"  
  
"Your lightening blooms don't work here."  
  
She looked at him confused for a moment. "I believe you mean light bulbs. And yes I did read that electricity doesn't work here. But wouldn't the wax drip on all the students?"  
  
"No," he looked at her for a moment before scratching his nose. "Never thought about it though."  
  
"Ron," she started. He hesitantly looked over the catch her eye. "Can you at least tell me what happened? To Hermione?"  
  
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes and paused for a moment. She stopped as well and turned to face him. "It's not that I don't want to--" He began, and he opened his eyes looking directly at her. He gave a resigned sigh. He opened his mouth only to interrupted.  
  
"Ooh! What do we have here?" An oddly dressed fellow zoomed over to hover above them.  
  
Ron looked up with a scowl. "Bugger off, Peeves."  
  
"Weaslebee, Weaselbee, finally found the Her-mi-oneee!!"  
  
Ron grumbled under his breath.  
  
The floating figure continued taunting in a sing-song voice. "Both still looking for her memories!”

Her head snapped up at that waiting to see what else this strange figure knew.

“Damnit, Peeves. I’ll call for the Bloody Baron.” Ron said a slight flush, he took hold of her elbow, and as he tried to walk faster, he directed her away from Peeves. They walked down the stairs and could no longer see the strange floating man.

But Peeves called to them down the hall as he floated away from them as well, “Everyone in the world can see, things aren’t how they used to be… Trying to hide her away quietly, but ickle Ronnie found Hermione!”

She looked back over her shoulder considering the strange taunt. “Who was that?”

“Peeves. He’s a poltergeist, and a right pain the arse.”

“A poltergeist?” She pressed. Ron hummed in agreement. “Why does he think you are trying to hide me?”

The tips of Ron’s ears pinked, but he remained silent, unsure how to answer her question. Her eyebrows raised quickly up in surprise. He finally looked at her with an expression that was a little bashful and a little defensive. “Just until it all gets sorted. You turning up like you did. It’s causing a bit of… a stir.”

“What? You mean the way the children respond and all that?”

His mouth smoothed into a smile. “Well, in part. But you apparently made quite the entrance this afternoon at Diagon Alley.”

“Where is that?” She asked puzzled about what he was referring to.

“The pub you guys came from. Good bit of grit to the atmosphere. Delicious steak and kidney pie.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I can’t speak to the pie. But I suppose I know where you are referring to.” She had been so focused on her thought and confusion; she never considered that those who witnessed that scene might have been as alarmed as she was.

Ron began to slow down. As they neared two statues of gargoyles that guarded a door, he looked around quickly for signs of anyone else coming. He pulled something out of his pocket and stuffed it into her hand quickly. "Don't tell anyone I gave this to you." He looked at them one more time. "If you want to hear what is going on, tuck one end as close as you can to the rest of us and hold the other up to your ear."  
  
She opened are hand and saw was a most like a long string. "So, it works as a listening device?"  
  
Ron's head wobbled his head in a strange nod. "Sure."  
  
She studied his face. "Why would you give this to me?"  
  
Ron smiled and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't agree with the ferret. I don't think you need to be kept in the dark right now. Can’t hurt to have a trick up your sleeve."  
  
Her eyebrow quirked at the mention of a ferret’s opinion, but she brushed it off as a strange turn of phrase. "Hmm…" She studied it a little closer. If nothing else, it didn't appear dangerous. She smiled and pocketed her latest trinket. "Any other advice?"  
  
"Don't ever follow the spiders," he said in an oddly serious tone.  
  
She studied her latest peculiar acquaintance. The corners of his eyes crinkled with faint wrinkles that could have only come from time he spent laughing over the years. His relaxed nature seemed a true personality trait.  
  
Slowly, the edge of her mouth twitched into a smile. "Yes, well I am not sure what that means. But thank you." She paused. “So about…everything. Are you sure there is nothing you can really tell me about what is going on?”

He looked up to the ceiling and took a deep breath as he closed his eyes. “One question. I will answer one question you have. Right now.”

Her heart began to race. What to ask? She could simply ask if she was Hermione Granger, but to be perfectly honest, she didn’t think that there was any chance that she would believe him regardless of what he might say. She felt somewhat convinced about the existence of magic on some level based on what she had seen over the last two days. Anything about her life could be real or fake. So she decided to ask about “Hermione.” She thought back over the past two days, the people she had talked to, they responses she had, even what the poltergeist had said moments ago until it struck her. “What happened to Hermione Granger’s memories?”

His face pinched briefly before he opened his eyes to answer her. “Hermione… She lost her memories when… Well… her parents didn’t couldn’t remember her. They didn’t know she was their daughter or anything. So, she developed a way—ingenious as always—to bring those memories back. But before she was able to make things right, she was exposed to it herself, and it back fired on her. And instead…she lost all memories connected to magic. Lost her own magic. It was just gone…” he drifted off staring off into the distance no doubt remembering the moments vividly during that time. When his eyes refocused on her, his sad blue eyes watched her with something so honest that she felt it herself. There was something in his body language, and his words made her believe him.

“But…how?” She asked finally. She still had so many questions that needed answers. It wasn’t enough. Though it confirmed some of what she had inferred from her discussion with the large man by the lake, she still didn’t understand.  
  
But Ron only mumbled something under his breath, and the two statues leaped apart to allow access to a small wooden door. She was startled but accepted it as another example of peculiarities encountered that day. Ron held open the door for her. But before they entered Draco approached from further down the corridor. Blaise sauntered behind him with grace and without a care, a slight smirk growing on his lips as his eyes flicked between Draco and the couple near the staff room. Draco’s dark cloak billowed behind him as he moved with determination as he walked past them.

“Oi! Ferret!” Ron called out in Draco’s direction.

For a moment, she thought Draco would ignore them completely and continue down the hall, but then he paused. Draco spun around with a slight sneer and stiff posture. “What?”

“Going somewhere?” Ron said not bothering to hide the accusation from his tone.

Draco’s eyes quickly flicked over to hers before responding. “Nothing that concerns you.” While he appeared to be addressing Ron, she felt that this comment was directed at her.  
  
“Now why would I find that hard to believe?” Ron said voicing her own opinions.

Draco’s jaw tensed, but the movement on his face was barely perceptible. She studied him for a moment. Everyone else she had encountered appeared to be brimming with emotions of some kind; he always looked so stoic. But she could feel the anger radiating from him. There was something dangerous about Draco. Was it just her that inspired anger in him or everyone? Sebastian seemed to look up to this man, but nothing she had seen of him would inspire such reverence.

“Apparently, our visitors are back.” He said briefly.

Ron’s face scrunched in confusion. “Visitors?” Draco narrowed his eyes at him. Ron’s face expressed both confusion and annoyance. “What are you on about?”

Tired of the exchange, Blaise let out and exasperated gasp. “Aurors, Weasley. Smith is back with some reinforcements. Try to be little quicker on the uptake. For all our sakes.”

It appeared that Blaise’s comments merited a glare from Draco. Blaise simply shrugged his shoulders with indifference.

“How the bloody hell was I supposed to know that? Why do you always have to talk in code?” Ron exclaimed.

Draco rolled his eyes and made to return to his path down the hall.

She took a sudden step forward. “I want to come with you.”

He turned back around to face her. “No.”

She took another step forward. Looking him directly in the eye with her challenge. “Tell me it has nothing to do with me.”

"Stay here," he replied simply. She looked at each of the men before quickly taking off in the direction Draco was heading. Blaise followed shortly after her. Blaise shared a conspirator's smile with her as they headed off down the hallway towards the main atrium by the Great Hall.  
  
Quite a few people stood in the entry way now. She recognized Ginny, Harry, Ron, and who she believed was the headmistress from earlier. But several others stood around in what appeared to be some standoff. A tall man with blonde curly hair and smug expression was the first to spot her. "Hermione." He said, and the others turned around.  
  
Draco appeared to have caught up with them and gently put his hand on her shoulder as he moved to stand in front of her. "McLaggen." He said in greeting in her place.  
  
The blonde sneered in disgust, "Malfoy."  
  
Next to him stood the man from the train station, who spoke next. "Malfoy, you know she has to come with us."  
  
Draco gritted his teeth. "Actually no, I don't believe she does." He and the man from the train station seemed intently focused on one another. McLaggen, though, had shifted his focus back to her with eyes alight with ominous intrigue.  
  
"Malfoy," the man from the train station began again. "There are many stories that are developing, and we need to investigate which scenario is accurate."  
  
Harry stepped forward. "And as your boss, I am telling you that the situation is under control, Smith. Go home."  
  
The man from the train, Smith, looked back at Harry now. Insecurity flickered briefly across his face before it was replaced with conviction. "Respectfully, sir, some of us are concerned that you are too emotionally compromised to make that determination. Cormac is here to back me on behalf of the Wizengamot."  
  
The attention was drawn back to McLaggen who was still watching her intently. "Yes, the Wizengamot feels that this particular case may require someone else's point of view."  
  
Ginny bristled angrily. "Yes, and who said you were qualified?"  
  
McLaggen gave Ginny a politicians smile. "Trust me; I'm qualified. At least as qualified as you all. You know, there is growing sentiment that perhaps the time for favoritism has run its course." He shifted his attention back to his main interest. "But I must say I am quite looking forward this turn of events." Even Smith shifted uneasily in response to McCormac's comments.  
  
Ginny's grip on her wand increased until her knuckles turned white. It appeared to be Harry's hand on her wrist that kept her from doing anything in response.  
  
"We are just trying to do the right thing. You know depending on which of the rumors are true… well, there are options." McLaggen said. "As long as she answers all of our questions, we will answer all of hers. Honestly."  
  
"Get out." Draco snarled at him  
  
"We'll be happy to leave." McLaggen paused for dramatic effect. "If she comes with us."  
  
"Over my dead body," Draco responded vehemently.  
  
McLaggen smirked, "Well, let's give her the option and see. Unless there is a reason, Hermione can't make her own decision."  
  
The air in the room constricted. All those around her seemed to hold their breath. Everyone except Draco turned to look at her. Draco still stood resolute and stiff in front of her to block McLaggen's path.  
  
She furrowed her eyebrows as she assessed those around her. Of all the information, she had learned over the past two days; she still wasn't sure what to believe. Could he really give her more answers? Honest answers?  
  
McLaggen seemed entirely too smug with the silence that followed his challenge. There was something about him that left her vaguely uneasy. She didn't know him. She didn't trust him. But looking around at the other strangers, she knew she didn't know them either. She had no real reason to trust them either. It seemed a lot rested upon her reaction at this moment. Could she accept the role of Hermione Granger? She didn't know what exactly that even meant.  
  
The pressure of their pained gazes made something inside her ache. It overwhelmed her thoughts. It all seemed too much. She closed her eyes to clear her head. As she breathed in, she was wrapped in the comforting scent of crisp pine, leather bound books, and a subdued warmth.  
  
Then she felt it. A sharp spark or shock in response to the scent that jolted her. She snapped her eyes open, knowing what she needed to do. She placed her hand on Draco's shoulder and walked forward towards McLaggen. Draco met her eyes for a moment with a flicker of emotions, nearly too quick to read. Concern, apprehension, fear all swirled within his eyes behind his guarded façade. She refocused ahead to see McLaggen's impossibly smug expression of victory.  
  
"McLaggen, Draco is right. I think it is time you left."  
  
McLaggen's expression froze. "What?" He paused. "You… you don't even know what you are saying."  
  
She took another step forward with conviction. "You shouldn't presume to know anything about me."  
  
McLaggen looked deep into her eyes searching for hesitation. "Do you even know who you are?"  
  
"The question is do you know who I am?" She refused to let him win. She forced all of her trepidation and insecurity out of her mind. "Because I think both us know I would never choose to go with you."  
  
His expression was clearly taken aback as he studied her.  
  
"…Head Auror Potter we should follow procedure. Taking all of you, but namely her, in for questioning is the best way to resolve this situation. Without increased speculation." Smith attempted to intervene.  
  
Behind McLaggen, Smith and their accomplices, the large doors of the entrance to the castle were pushed apart. A tall, regal man strode into the corridor with an imposing expression. Two demure men followed behind him a few paces back.  
  
Harry let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"What is the meaning of this Smith?" Came the booming voice of the regal man.  
  
Smith stumbled over his words and so McLaggen took over. "We are here to make sure that everything is handled appropriately."  
  
An imposing look spread throughout the face of their latest arrival. "McLaggen, you hold no authority over these matters. Now, I think you and your men should leave before I am forced to suspend them for insubordination."  
  
McLaggen appeared to decide against saying something in response and motioned for the other men to follow him back out the doors. As he left the entranceway, he turned back around to face the small group left behind. "I would be careful how you handle this, Minister. You wouldn't want to give anyone reason to challenge your position. And Hermione… I look forward to seeing you again. Soon."  
  
The silence followed them out until the thud of the over sized doors closed.  
  
The headmistress pursed her lips. "About time you arrived."  
  
The powerful man relaxed a bit even under her intense scrutiny. "You know how I like to make an entrance, Minerva."  
  
The stern woman only raised a judgmental eyebrow in response.  
  
Meanwhile, Ginny rushed forward and enveloped the curly haired brunette in a hug. But the woman froze in her arms staring straight ahead into Draco's guarded eyes.  
  
"You're back. It's really you." Ginny said quietly, failing to realize the other woman still stood frozen in her embrace.  
  
A cold voice spoke. "No, Ginny. She's not. It was just an act." With that said, Draco turned around and stalked away down the corridor.  
  
Ginny pulled away and looked at his retreating silhouette before turning back to look at the other woman's tense face. Ginny's eyes began to shine. "No, that can't be right…” She attempted to smile and brush some of the hair away from the other woman’s face. “No, no, no I-I know you are in there. Please, Hermione, please…" Her eyes shone brightly with unshed tears in the torch light of the atrium.  
  
In response, she slowly shook her head. "No. I'm not." Was all she said, but as the red head dissolved into tears, Hermione pulled Ginny into arms and ran a soothing hand up and down the younger woman's back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for the delay! But between finals and Thanksgiving, it was a crazy schedule. I have made the chapter and I'm finally happy to end at a point where I can refer to our main character as Hermione even if she doesn't consciously accept that it is who she is. Anyways, enjoy. There were a few more hints this chapter, and some exchanges that seem pointless, but trust me they are not. So please keep reading! I hope you read, review, and enjoy!!


	10. Chapter 10: An Initial Debriefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After reconvening in the staffroom, the others answer some of Hermione's questions about her current predicament.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I have been awful. I think it just about a year between updates at this point, but I should be getting back on track some. This past year has been one I don't expect to repeat. Hopefully, you all will forgive me and keep reading anyway...
> 
> I don't know that I particularly like this chapter because it is a bit slow, but I think it necessary to have a chapter that a starting groundwork for Hermione before we continue to move on with more information to be revealed through upcoming plot points.

Most everyone still stood around the atrium as they had during the confrontation, except for Blaise who had chased after Draco down the corridor. Ginny shuffled away off to the side to be comforted by her husband. With both arms free, Hermione rearranged her assortment of items again to prevent any of them from falling to the ground. The headmistress and their mysterious late arrival exchanged hushed tones. Thus, leaving Hermione standing awkwardly next to Ron as the others discussed amongst themselves.

 

Hermione began slightly exasperated. “Is anyone ever going to explain what is actually going on?”

 

The tips of Ron’s ears turned pink. “Um…”

 

“Honestly, what was all that about?” Hermione gestured towards the doors McLaggen, and the others had just exited.

 

From a couple of steps away, Harry took on an authoritative and frustrated tone. “ _That_ was several Aurors and the Wizengamot attempting to take you in for questioning.” He took Ginny by the hand and led her back towards Hermione and Ron.

 

Hermione continued to level him with her stare. “Was that supposed to clarify anything?”

 

Harry winced a bit. “Sorry.” He used his other hand to rub the back of his neck. “Police and government officials.”

 

She narrowed her eyes in response, both angry and baffled what the authorities of this strange world could want with her. “Why?”

 

Harry dropped his hand back down to his side. “Because—”

 

“Oi!” Ron suddenly shouted, and everyone looked at him a bit baffled. “You think we want to do this out of the hall. You know away from the you-know…” He motioned about waist height, “Children.”

 

“Er, right.” Harry nervously patted down his hair, before he gestured down the hall with his other hand. “Staff room, yeah?” Harry called over to the headmistress who was still involved in her conversation with the latest arrival off to the side.

                                                                                                                                                                               

The headmistress gave a curt nod before taking the lead back down the corridor. As they passed through the two gargoyles, Hermione took in the modest staff room. There was a large oval table occupying most of the room surrounded by ten mismatched wooden chairs that had all seen better days. The table top was littered with papers about the schedules and rules for the new term. Along the far wall to her right was a roaring fireplace surrounded by several armchairs. A couple of desks and small tables lined the wall to her right. The headmistress walked over and sat at the head of the oval table near the fireplace, leaving her ominously illuminated by its light. The others filed into the room and moved towards the table with hesitant glances back towards Hermione, who lingered. Their latest arrival approached her from the side of the doorway.

 

He spoke in a deep baritone with politician’s smile.  “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Kingsley Shacklebolt.”

 

“Oh.” Hermione paused to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. “Pleasure.” She paused awkwardly before taking his hand to finalize the introduction. She wrapped her hand back around her bundle of collected items and swept her gaze around the room. It seemed that the others watched with somewhat bated breath. Under her gaze, they were shaken out of stupor and shuffled around taking seats around the table. Kingsley gestured for Hermione to take a seat before him, but she paused and gestured the same for him. His smile fell a bit before following her instruction towards the table.  And so, around the table, the others took their seats. To McGonagall’s right sat Kingsley, Harry, and Ginny. Ron took his seat on the other side of the headmistress.

 

The experience of the day in this bright new world came crashing through the door of the small plain room. Lingering in the doorway made it still appear as a window into this strange world. Maybe the answers would be in this room—maybe not—regardless she doubted her world would be same afterward.

 

Hermione bit her lip before taking a determined step and moved towards the seat at the other head of the table, leaving at least one seat empty on either side of her. She surveyed them all watching her with a variety of emotions. She laid out the items on the table in front of her.

 

Draco suddenly entered the room, trailed by Blaise. Through gritted teeth, Draco said, "Headmistress, a word." While Draco still stood stiffly by the door awaiting an answer, Blaise took a seat around the table between Hermione and Ron. Blaise threw a wink towards Hermione, who rolled her eyes.

 

"No, Malfoy. Sit down." The stern headmistress responded.

 

Draco’s jaw clenched a bit more. "I would prefer to discuss this outside."

 

"No, you have made your concerns quite clear. You may either sit down or continue your tantrum elsewhere." There appeared to be a challenge in Professor McGonagall’s tone and an impassive expression. Most of their company looked somewhat uncomfortable with their exchange. Well, except for two. Ron smiled smugly at the blond which earned a glare in return and Blaise took to casually browsing through the leaflets scattered on the table. Draco vaguely reminded Hermione of a petulant child as he turned on his heels and headed back out the door. Blaise let out a disappointed sigh as Draco exited the room.

 

The headmistress redirected her gaze to Hermione and cleared her throat. "Now, I'm sure you are looking for the facts. I can tell you is that you are in trusted company. You have nothing to fear from those in this room."

 

Hermione took another turn to look around the room at those who surrounded the table. "Well, I know that I have been lied to, tricked, attacked, and chased down. I know that I don’t particularly trust anyone in this room, but I am willing to listen because I need to know the truth." She steeled herself for the answers to—hopefully—come. "So, who exactly are all of you?"

 

Ginny moved as though to reach out for Hermione's hand on the table before thinking better of it. "We are your family."

 

"By choice. Not blood." Harry expanded.

 

Hermione surveyed them again with increased scrutiny. "All of you?"

 

Harry nodded.

 

"And by _my_ family…you mean Hermione Granger’s family." She assumed.

 

Ginny confirmed, "You are Hermione Granger. You belong here. With us. " Harry brought his arm around Ginny's shoulders in a silent show of support.

 

Hermione pursed her lips taking in this information. “If you are all, in fact, my family… why did you try to curse me last night?” Hermione asked pointedly of Harry, who visibly flinched.

 

Blaise spoke up holding up a finger with his point. "Charm, technically. Not curse." It would appear that the headmistress did not appreciate his contribution though based on the glare she sent his way. Hermione, meanwhile, narrowed her eyes back at Harry waiting for a response.

 

Harry shifted forward in his seat to lean on his elbows, and his voice similarly shifted to resigned and strict quality. “Because legally… you are a muggle. The procedure for dealing with muggles that come into direct contact with magic is SIMR: Subdue, Investigate, Modify, Release.”

 

“But what does that have to do with my memory?” She asked.

 

“Modify—it’s the _modification_ of your memories,” Harry somberly explained. “Memories are magically erased and replaced.”

 

Hermione’s brows furrowed. “But that doesn’t make any sense. The past two days, the only thing all of you keep telling me is that I am a witch. That I am a witch named Hermione Granger. There was a ball of fire in my hand earlier. And yet now you are trying to tell me that you erased my memory in order fulfill some irrelevant legal obligation meant for sorting out people who aren’t magical?”

 

Harry rubbed the back of his neck as his cheeks tinged pink. “Well, …it’s a bit more complicated. And it’s not just the legal issue…”

 

Hermione levels him with a glare. “Meaning?”

 

After a pause, Ron decided to jump in. “Well, you know, it’s just that…in the past…. you haven’t exactly responded well to… all of this.” With a raised eyebrow, Hermione gestured him to continue. “It’s usually just a matter of time before you forget everything again. And… it is not… well, you know.”

 

“No, I really don’t.” She felt equal measures of confusion and frustration boiling.

 

“Due to your… condition even without the modification, your memory doesn’t seem to last long.” Harry supplied.

 

“What condition?” She bit out.

 

Harry tried to explain. “There was a bit of magic. It was meant to remove magical influences on muggles. But you were exposed to it. You were a witch, so… it took all of your magic and memories about magic. Without magic or a single magical blood relative, it left you a muggle. Legally.”

 

“That’s it? But why? What kind of magic was it? How could that happen?” She quickly fired back in response to the unsatisfactory explanation.

 

“A simple mistake. It was an accident. Nothing could have been done.” The headmistress stated rather quickly. Ginny nodded somberly, but Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Kingsley continued to monitor her for a reaction.

 

Taking in the varied reactions, “If that is true, why does it need to be stated?” Hermione asked pointedly challenging the stern headmistress.

 

Yet, her response did not seem to catch the headmistress off guard at all. “Simply for the sake of clarity. Given the severity of your situation, I believe it best.”

 

Hermione silently agreed but questioned if perhaps there was another reason. She made a mental note to herself to revisit that later. For now, it was not the most pressing issue. “And it’s…incurable? No antidote or alternative? Even with all of your magical options?”

 

Harry shook his head. Ginny bit her lip and looked off to the side. The others mostly looked at her with varying degrees of pity and concern.

 

Hermione worried on her lip. Her gaze shifted off to the distant flames. “So, I’m going to forget again? No matter what?”

 

There was an awkward exchange of looks across the table. In the end, it was the Headmistress that spoke. “Perhaps. There is no way to know. This is the first time you have exhibited magic, perhaps—”

 

Kingsley blatantly cut off the headmistress. “Yes. You will likely forget all of this.” He looked at Hermione, measuring her reaction to his words. Her eyes flickered over him with furrowed brows. She couldn’t put her finger on what was different about his expression compared to others, but Hermione felt he was watching her with the same concealed apprehension she had of him.

 

The headmistress spoke again with stern caution. “No one is able to say at this time.”

 

Hermione bit her lip as she considered her next question. Her need for the answer eventually outweighed her doubt in their truthfulness. “How many times has this happened before? How many times have I forgotten?”

 

Several different voices spoke at once, each calling out a different number. Harry offered a remorseful expression. “Dunno, ten? Maybe.”

 

Her eyes widened. “Ten?” She felt like the wind was knocked out her with his words. Her eyes watered and lost focus as she imagined what this meant for her life. That was ten times her memories were changed. At least ten pieces of her life were gone. She had woken up ten times not properly recalling her life before. Yet she no recollection, no inkling something was amiss. The memories of childhood and adult life were changed, forgotten, and rewritten. Friends, family, birthdays, hopes, dreams—who knew the full extent of what now escaped her mind. _She_ had been altered. She had forgotten. _Ten_ times. It was all so much more than she anticipated. And she had no idea. She had no recollection of any other memories or experiences that were similar to this. She closed her eyes and leaned forward so that her face rested on her fingertips as she absorbed this information. “Ten,” she repeated once again.

**_Breathe. Just breathe._** The words echoed from deep inside her, calming her.

 

With a deep breath, she sat back in her chair and opened her eyes. Harry, Ginny, and Ron watched her apprehensively. The headmistress observed her. Kingsley watched her with a glint in his eyes. Her mouth twisted as she considered her situation. “Are you going to try to _charm_ me again? Make me forget?” The words twisted with disdain and betrayal as she spoke.

 

Harry’s shoulders sank, then he shook his head. “No. Not for now at least.”

 

“Why?”

 

For the first time, Blaise was the one to explain with a quirk of his smirk. “Didn’t exactly take, did it? And if Boy Wonder can’t, it’s not bloody likely anyone’s will.” He leaned back in his seat, almost too casually.

 

Hermione raised an eyebrow questioning the strange title. Harry’s face flushed red, “I’m not the best at memory charms, but for now, no.”

 

She eyed them all carefully from across the table. “How long until I forget again exactly?”

 

Ginny gave her a forlorn look. “We don’t know. It’s been different every time. One moment you are fine, having a conversation, walking around, then the next…” She trailed off.

 

Hermione’s brows furrowed together. “What? What happens?”

 

Ginny looked down with tears gathering in her eyes. Her fists were clenched tightly, and her expression was as angry as it was devastated. Harry pulled his arm tighter around Ginny and watched his wife with concern. Ron looked physically sick with discomfort.

 

“The next, you are writhing on the floor in pain, screaming bloody murder,”  Blaise explained in a solemn tone, devoid of his usual teasing lilt. He gave what seemed an attempt at causal with a flick he sent the flier he had been browsing across the table.

 

Hermione bit on her bottom lip. “But…why are you are erasing my memory? Why do _you_ make me forget?”

 

“To avoid the whole bloody fiasco. You know, the pain, the chaos, the unpredictability, etc., etc.” Blaise then attempted to joke, “You know it’s a real time suck for all this. Better to speed along the process.” He tossed a hand up in the air generally to reference the situation. There was a thud under the table. “Fuck!” He called out before ducking down to rub at his shin as he threw a glare at Ginny.

 

Used to his antics, Hermione continued to press on with her questions. “But how do you know when it is time to do that? If you don’t know how long I have, how do you know when to obliviate me?”

 

“Well…because… it happens anytime you are exposed to magic or one of us.” Harry tried to explain.

 

She bit her lip again and pondered this with a conceding nod. “Okay…but how do you _know_ that it will happen? If you keep preventing it, how do you know it’s inevitable?”

 

The color drained from his face. “Well…I mean… I guess…we… don’t?”

 

There was a pause.

 

“And that is exactly why we should never leave the explanations to Potter.” Came the drawl from the doorway. Draco sauntered into the room. Hermione briefly wondered how long he had been there before anyone noticed.

 

Through the doorway behind him emerged a rather nervous man in his late-forties. This man looked around the room anxiously and adjusted the glasses that rested on his nose. While she could hardly call the attire of her current companions normal, this man was clearly dressed in slippers, pajamas, and dressing gown. His face broke into a comforting smile that faltered for a moment. He glanced towards Draco for some sort of approval before focusing on Hermione again. The man cleared his throat. “Hello, I’m Healer Bernard Tilling.” He stepped towards her.

 

Hermione watched him skeptically, having experienced one too many introductions that day. “Okay…”

 

From the other end of the table, the headmistress sighed. “Draco, is this man here of his own free will?”

 

Draco stood with his arms crossed leaning casually against the wall just to the left of the doorway. “Of course,” he murmured. When the healer looked back at him hesitantly, Draco motioned with his head towards Hermione. The headmistress templed her fingers in front of her face. Hermione was unsure if she was hiding a grimace or a smile.

 

“Miss. Wilkinson, I’m sure this is all very confusing—” Healer Tilling began speaking, but the sudden twist in Hermione’s gut was distracting.

 

Up until a few hours ago, she was completely convinced she was and always had been Jean Wilkinson. Now, the name left her…unsettled. She didn’t feel strongly enough to correct him on the name, but neither did it feel it was appropriate anymore, which left her a woman without a name.

 

Ten times. Had she had ten different names? Had she been ten different people?

 

“—just a quick and painless diagnostic spell—”

 

His words suddenly registered with her again. “No!” She quickly shouted at him.

 

The man looked back towards Draco nervously. “I promise it won’t hurt. I just need to check your vitals.”

 

“No, no one will be performing magic on me.” She said with narrowed eyes. She could feel a slight change in energy around her as several of the candles, and the fireplace that lit the room blossomed with new flames.

 

Healer Tilling motioned with his hands in surrender, “I understand your apprehension, but we need to reassess your current state as soon as possible.”

 

“No.” She repeated with a fierceness she wasn’t even aware she had.

 

In an attempt to de-escalate the situation, Ginny tried to intervene. “I’m sure this can wait a bit longer, but it isn’t a bad idea—”

 

“No. There is not a chance that anyone is going to be using any kind of magic on me any time soon.” Hermione stated.

 

Ginny reached towards Hermione on the table, but it did nothing to soften Hermione’s glare. “Okay, but please, just hear him out—”

 

“I promise I mean no harm, Miss.” The healer interjected.

 

Draco rolled his eyes and stalked towards Hermione. He placed one hand on the table and leaned over her. “Stop being a bitch. Let him run the damn test.”

 

She stood up from her seat to challenge him but still stood nearly a foot shorter than his tall frame. “No. Not a single one of you is going to come anywhere near me with your wands drawn until I say so. Now if you are done being a condescending arse, I still have a few questions.” She was close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him as his chest rose and fell with each breath. The storm behind his eyes continued to rage in fury as he looked down at her. They remained locked that way. The moment dragged on until the curl that must have shaken loose with all of her fluster settled across her gaze. It floated there briefly before being blown out of her vision as she let out a huff of frustration.

 

For the briefest moment, the corner of his mouth twitched. Suddenly, Draco spun on his heel and walked away. He sat on the edge of one the tables near the wall. “Fine,” he crossed his arms as he leaned back. “Ask your bloody questions, so we can all get on with our lives.” He bit out.

 

Hermione took a deep breath and before sitting back down in the chair with the pride of having somehow won the argument. She looked around the room and noticed a mixture of emotions. Most notably, the fright of the healer, who was now the only person left standing. Perhaps feeling the awkwardness of the situation, he hesitantly moved towards the seat next to Blaise.

 

“Yes, Bernie. By all means settle yourself right down here next to me.” Blaise purred as he bounced his eyebrows suggestively, which made both Hermione and Draco roll their eyes, but drew a nervous laugh from the healer as he took the seat. Ginny snorted with amusement and smirked from across the table. Harry and Ron looked on rather confused by the interaction. The headmistress and Kingsley paid them no mind.

 

Hermione took a deep breath before reflecting on the questions still left unanswered. “So, who exactly was Hermione Granger?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next few chapters will be a bit more eventful as news filters out that Hermione has returned to the Wizarding World. I know this chapter is still a bit vague on the details, but I wrote it several different ways and this seemed to be the most natural.


End file.
